


City Boy, Country Boy.

by searin_pants



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Crazy Vegans, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searin_pants/pseuds/searin_pants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>City boy Leto works in a bakery. He meets country boy Garrett and falls for him HARD. Cue awkward flirting and friends teasing Leto about his obvious crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually stupid. I wanted Fenris to be the awkward one because I love his awkward attempts to talk to Hawke in Legacy :) I've kept him as Leto because he's pretty OOC. So, no tattoos. Black hair. I don't know if I plan to write anymore but this doesn't really have an ending.

I hear the door open but don’t bother to look up. It’s twenty to eleven and I’m not interested in serving anyone this late.

I hope that the scowl on my face is obvious.

‘Are you still open?’

I don’t bother to look up from the bench I’m cleaning.

‘Yeah,’ I sigh, ‘we’re open for another twenty minutes.’

‘Oh, awesome,’ comes the relieved voice.

I plaster on my best ‘ _you are inconveniencing me’_ look and stand up straight to serve this idiot who couldn’t have come in earlier.

‘ _Oh_ ,’ I think, as I watch the man take a seat at the counter, ‘ _He’s cute._ ’

I suddenly decide he’s not really inconveniencing me _that_ much.

I take in the dark beard and unkempt hair falling across his forehead. He’s wearing a business shirt, which is pulled tightly across his broad chest. He’s loosened his purple tie and the top button of his shirt is undone. My eyes are drawn to the thick chest hair creeping out from underneath the collar.

Oh yes. He is very much my type. Very, very much.

I realise that he is talking to me and I feel like a fool, standing here like a giddy school girl.

Coughing into a napkin, I attempt to pull myself out of my pathetic trance and look up from his broad chest, doing my best to look casual.

‘ _Smooth_ , _Leto_ ,’ I tell myself, ‘ _There’s no way he knew you were checking him out, you moron_.’

Oh crap. He has a scar. Scars are sexy.

It starts on just below his right eye, running across the bridge of his nose and down his left cheek.

I realise his shoulders are shaking with laughter

’You with me?’ he asks.

‘Sorry,’ I stutter, ‘Brain… ah, I zoned out briefly.’

He chuckles openly.

‘Long day, huh?’

I rub my eyes.

‘Yeah. Yeah, it has been.’

‘I feel ya,’ he sighs.

‘ _I feel ya,_ ’ Well that’s great. Now my groin is springing to life. I guess I’ll be serving him while trying to hide an awkward erection.

He’s talking again.

‘Yeah, I started a new job today,’ he says, _Damn he has a sexy voice_ , ‘And I’m new to the city. I was supposed to finish at six, but I was stuck there until nearly ten. I knew I’d be too tired to make dinner when I got home. I’m glad you’re still open.’

He flashes me a weary smile.

‘I’m starving.’

My brain shifts back into gear.

‘Right, sorry!’ I feel like an idiot, ‘What can I get you?’

He leans forward on the counter dramatically.

‘Everything! I’ll eat it all!’ he grins at me, ‘How can sitting at a desk all day make me so hungry?’

He certainly doesn’t look like someone who sits at a desk all day.

‘There’s not much left this late,’ I say, ‘But the Egg and Bacon Pie is pretty good.’

‘Egg and bacon pie it is then!’

I smile at him and get to work. I really should cut what’s left in half, there’s more than one slice here. But it’s the end of the day, he’s incredibly cute, and… well. Reasons. So I stick it all on a plate and heat it up.

The moment I place the pie infront of him, he all but inhales it.

I feel my cheeks flushing pink as I watch him eat. Probably should be staring, but I can’t look away.

‘I should shut the doors,’ I mumble.

He raises an eyebrow.

‘You don’t have to leave,’ I tell him, ‘I’m here for another hour to clean. Stay until you’re finished. I wouldn’t mind having someone to talk too.’

I begin to wipe down tables while he finishes eating. I want to ask him his name, but I’m a coward. So I ask him about his job instead.

‘I just started work for the government today,’ he tells me in between mouthfuls, ‘We had an IT disaster had some records got deleted. Wouldn’t let us leave until we recovered them. It was great. A great first day. I think I’m actually dead.’

I start taking what’s left of the cakes out of the display case. Before I know what I’m doing, I place a lamington and slice of black forest cake infront of his face.

‘I’m only going to throw them away,’ I tell him, ‘And you seem pretty hungry.’

‘Oh, I love you!’ he blurts out, and I feel my face flush pink again.

He begins to devour the black forest cake, and I feel an embarrassing tingling in my groin as his eyes close in pleasure.

‘Oh,’ he groans, ‘So good! Tell me you made this. I might ask you to marry me.’

I drop my head, hoping my long fringe covers my burning face.

‘I did make it, yes.’

‘You didn’t!’ he gasps in surprise, ‘How can you bake this well and not weigh five hundred kilos? If I could bake like his, I’d just eat all day until I turned into a fat slug.’

‘Type 1 diabetes,’ I reply, turning away to hide my red face and… obvious hard on.

‘Oh shit,’ he mumbles, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It’s okay. I was diagnosed at eighteen months old. I’ve dealt with it my whole life.’

I take a deep breath and turn to face him, now that things seem to be starting to settle in my pants.

I go back to wiping down the counter, watching him eat out of the corner of my eye.

‘Do you have to inject yourself?’ he asks, moving onto the lamington. I try to get a look at his belly, but he’s leaning over the counter.

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re a badass!’ he exclaims, smiling at me, ‘Needles freak me the fuck out.’

I chuckle at him as I continue to clean.

‘See this?’ he says, pointing to his scar, ‘Fell onto a barbed wire fence. My dad cut the fence and took me to the hospital with the wire still stuck in my face. They removed it and stitched it up without anaesthetic. I wouldn’t let them give me the needle.’

My eyes widen. That sounds fucking horrible.

‘I think that makes you the badass,’ I say, ‘How old were you?’

‘Sixteen. Cried like a little bitch,’ He says proudly, ‘Twenty one stitches! The nurses called me _Garrett the Champion_. Said I was brave. I wasn’t. I didn’t get a fucking lollipop either.’

Garrett. His name’s Garrett. I grin like a fool.

He leans back in his chair with a groan, slapping his belly.

‘Oh! So full!’

I have to turn away and take a few deep breaths. I feel like a horny teenager. This is pathetic.

He starts to roll his sleeves up. He has a tattoo of a dragon covering his left forearm. There’s something written beneath it in small text.

He notices me staring at it.

‘I like dragons,’ he says with a grin.

I turn my head, trying to read the writing on his arm.

‘What does it say?’

He holds his arm out so that it’s right under my nose. I can smell his skin. I wonder what would happen if I licked him?

‘Can you read it?’ he asks.

I squint at the text. It’s very small.

‘ _I want to be a dragon,_ ’ I read aloud, ‘Do you?’

He laughs, rubbing his belly with his other hand.

‘Hell to the fuck yes!’ he says loudly, ‘Dragons are boss. I was obsessed with them when I was a kid. I still am, actually.’

He lowers his arm, grinning widely at me.

‘Do you get sick of people asking you what it says?’ I ask.

He nods.

‘If I’m wearing short sleeves, I get asked on average about five times a day. My sister got me a shirt that says ‘ _Ask me what my tattoo says and receive a free concussion’_.

I feel like an idiot. I wish I hadn’t asked him now.

‘Sorry I asked,’ I mumble.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. I guess he’s just realised what he said.

‘No! No no no!’ he blurts out, ‘I don’t mind you asking! It’s the idiots who yank my arm so they can look and scream out ‘ _Sick tat, man! What’s it say?_ You’re fine! You’re better than fine. It’s okay!’

I let out a sigh of relief and he offers me a lopsided smile.

I have to force myself to start cleaning again.

‘Oh crap,’ I hear him mutter, ‘it’s past twelve. I’ve kept you back. I’m sorry.’

I turn and shake my head.

‘Don’t be. It’s made the time go quicker.’

I take his plates and run them out the back, chucking them quickly in the sink. By the time I get back, he’s standing, bag on shoulder. He’s ready to leave.

‘I better let you finish up,’ he says, ‘not that I haven’t enjoyed talking to you. But, school night and everything.’

I walk towards the door, unlocking it.

‘Oh, wait!’ he blurts out, ‘How much do I owe you?’

I look up at him, suddenly remembering that I’ve already closed off the register.

‘Oh, shit. I didn’t think of that,’ I say, ‘I’ve already shut the till. Not to worry! On the house. We’ll call it the Good Looking Customer Discount.’

 _Smooth_.

His face turns slightly pink.

‘Well,’ he says awkwardly, ‘I always knew my dashing good looks would come in handy one day.’

I grin stupidly at him, running a hand through my hair. I think I’m a little bit in love.

‘ _You’re a grown ass man, Leto,_ ’ I tell myself, ‘ _Act like one._ ’

I hold the door open, and he walks out into the summer air. He turns to leave, taking a few steps, before pausing and turning back towards me.

‘What days do you work?’ he asks.

‘Sunday to Thursday, three to twelve,’ I blurt out, far too eagerly.

He grins at me with a raised eyebrow.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Leto.’

‘Nice to meet you Leto,’ he says, ‘I’m Garrett.’

‘I know,’ my mouth is moving without my brain’s permission, ‘Garrett the Champion. You said so before.’

He laughs loudly.

‘Goodnight, Leto,’ he says.

As he turns and walks away, I bury my face in my hands. I’m fucked.

 

\---------

 

‘I’m not writing the speech for you, Leto!’

I stare pathetically at my best friend. I don’t want to write a speech. Speeches are hard.

‘I don’t know what to say!’ I whine, dropping my head dramatically into my folded arms.

‘Say, _Donnic is a great guy. He’s the best guy ever. This sure is a great wedding_. Or something like that.’

I push myself back in my chair, sighing loudly.

‘You never said anything about speeches when you asked me to be best man,’ I say.

Donnic shakes his head.

‘It’s the done thing! Aveline keeps asking me if you’ve written it yet!’ he says in an exasperated tone.

I prop my face up with my hands and stare down at the unfinished tea in front of me. Donnic’s fiancé, Aveline, has been riding him hard about this wedding. Our man dates always end up being about bloody wedding details these days. I want to go back to cruelly judging passerby’s and talking about Star Wars.

I’m happy for my friends. I really am, but I’m over this. The wedding is still six weeks away.

‘Can write a twenty minute speech about your sideburns? That would be okay,’ I say to my friend.

Donnic laughs.

‘Write whatever you want, Leto. I trust you.’

He starts telling me about Leliana, a sort of friend. I actually hardly know her, but she’ll be singing at the wedding. I rather enjoy listening to her sing, to be honest. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find her a little bit attractive.

However.

She scares the crap out of me. She has a pet Raven. A fucking Raven!

‘That woman has the cold, dead eyes of a killer,’ I say, dramatically.

‘You’re an idiot,’ he laughs, ‘What Aveline wants, Aveline will have. And she wants Leliana to sing. So she will.’

Aveline and I have known each other for years. When she and Donnic got engaged, I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t imagine the woman in a wedding dress. I couldn’t imagine her designing invitations. I couldn’t imagine her ordering flowers. But, the minute that ring was on her finger, she went borderline insane.

I can’t wait for this damn wedding to be over.

‘Oh,’ Donnic’s voice interrupts my thoughts, ‘I need you to introduce you the other groomsman.’

‘Which one? I already know Sebastian and Anders,’ I say, confused, ‘I’ve known them for years.’

Donnic shakes his head.

‘Nah, There’s a third groomsman now. Some guy that Aveline knows.’

I raise an eyebrow.

‘I thought the point of a groomsman was that they were friends with the groom.’

I shake my head. Fucking weddings!

‘She knew him when they were kids,’ he begins, ‘His family moved to the country. Have a sheep farm, or something like that. They stayed in touch and now he’s moved back to the city for work. I’ve never met him, but they made each other a promise to be each other’s bridemaids when they were kids. She can’t really make him a bridesmaid. So now he’s my groomsman, apparently.’

I stand up and grab my bag. I have to get to work.

‘Okay,’ I tell my friend, ‘Text me the details. We’ll all meet up. I hope he not some toothless bogan in an Akubra who wants to tell me all about shearing and shit.’

‘Could be,’ sighs Donnic, ‘Never met the guy.’

‘Tell Aveline I’ll get that speech thing done by the weekend. I gotta go,’ I tell him as I Ieave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've let a few Australianisms slip into ths chapter. I write what I know. I hope it's not confusing. If there is any kind non-Australian who would like to offer to proof read any further chapters for me I would be most pleased :) Writing AUs is hard!

‘You look like a kicked puppy, my dear.’

I glance up from the pile of pictures I’m looking over and come face to face with a pair of breasts. I think there’s a woman attached to them.

‘Isabela?’ I sigh, ‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’

‘No,’ she grins, ‘I’m sick today.’

‘You don’t look sick.’

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘I fancied the day off. Don’t judge me.’

I find the pictures snatched from under my nose, and she looks at them with a mischievous smile. I’m guessing she’s disappointed it them, because her face falls.

‘Marigolds?’ she asks.

‘What did you think they would be?’

‘I was hoping they would be dirty pictures!’ she giggles.

‘Yes, Isabela,’ I groan, ‘I always look at dirty pictures while I’m at work. I can’t go five minutes without them.’

‘Considering how long it’s been since you got any, I wouldn’t be surprised,’ she laughs.

Yes. My stagnant love life is hilarious. I appreciate her reminding me of that fact.

She leans forward on the counter, exposing far more cleavage than is really necessary, and pushes the pictures back towards me.

‘Why marigolds?’ she asks.

‘Aveline’s wedding cake, what else?’ I groan.

For a moment, a horrified expression crosses her face. Then she starts laughing hysterically.

‘Aveline,’ she wheezes, ‘Is having _marigolds_ on her wedding cake? The single most embarrassing moment in her entire courtship with Donnic? Are you serious?’

‘I don’t think that there was a single most embarrassing moment in their courtship,’ I muse, ‘It was all pretty embarrassing.’

She wipes her eyes, still giggling and nods.

‘Well, it worked out in the end,’ she says, ‘They’re cuties. I’m happy for them.’

‘And now, all I have to do is work out how to make marigolds out of damn fondant,’ I grizzle, ‘It should have been pansies. Pansies are easy.’

‘I know,’ Isabela says dramatically, ‘What a bitch that Aveline is.’

The door opens and I jump to attention. A trio of schoolgirls walk in, and I drop my head with loud sigh. I’m pretty sure that he’s not coming back. It’s been three days.

Isabela moves aside to let me serve the girls, which I do with little enthusiasm. They order honeycomb cupcakes which have little fondant bees on the top. I don’t want them eating my bees. Those bees took me ages to make. I’m attached to my bees.

They take their seats, squealing over how much they ‘ _love the little beeeeees!_ ’. I rub my temples. Schoolgirls give me a headache.

‘You were expecting someone?’ Isabela asks with a wry grin, moving back to sit infront of me, ‘I’ve never seen you jump up so quickly.’

‘No,’ I reply hastily, ‘Not expecting anyone.’

‘The way your face fell when those girls walked in!’ she laughs, ‘It nearly broke my heart!’

I glare at her. This only seems to make her more determined to tease me.

‘Ooh! Does Leto like a boy?’ she asks in a sing song voice.

‘Maybe.’

‘What’s his name?’ she asks, raising an eyebrow.

‘I don’t know,’ I lie.

‘Well, what’s he look like?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘You don’t know?’ she laughs, ‘Come on, Leto! This evasiveness is pathetic, even by your standards!’

I hear the door open and my heart skips a beat. I look up to see an elderly couple walk in. They can go to hell. I really am pathetic.

‘Oh, you poor baby!’ sighs Isabela, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

I can feel the pity in her voice. I really wish she’d go and leave me to my marigold dilemma. I can sit out the back and play with fondant and cry into the flour like a loser.

‘I have to get back to work,’ I mumble.

‘I’ll leave you to brood then, my dear,’ she says with a wink, ‘Good luck with your flowers.’

\----------

‘Bloody hell, MacDuff!’ I yelp, as I almost run Aveline’s corgi over with my bike.

He is so excited to see me that he pisses on my shoes.

‘Oh that’s brilliant,’ I moan, leaning my bike against the side of the house.

It’s Friday night and I’m exhausted.

I got called into work to bake on my day off. At eight thirty in the morning. I didn’t even know that there was an eight thirty in the morning. Last minute order for a six year old’s birthday party.

I don’t know why a six year old needs two hundred cupcakes and a three tier _Hello Kitty_ birthday cake, or why they couldn’t order earlier. I was actually planning on not wearing pants today. Friday’s are a strictly pants free day as far as I’m concerned.

I’d also planned to spend the day moping. So instead, I went into work and moped there. For fucking ten hours.

My cute customer hasn’t returned since Monday night. He probably found somewhere better to get food. Or was freaked out by how much of a moron I am. Or both.

I let myself in the back door.

‘Aveline! Your mutt pissed on my shoes!’ I yell, ‘I’m leaving them by the back door!’

‘Did you bring cake?’ she calls back. Clearly my shoes don’t matter to her. They are my third best pair of shoes.

I walk into the kitchen and chuck a box onto the counter. She’s standing with Sebastian drinking beer. She grabs one out of the fridge and hands it to me.

‘Good work, Leto!’ says Sebastian, lifting the lid of the box, ‘Oh yeah, cake!’

I yawn, rubbing my eyes and leaning back on the kitchen counter.

‘What time’s the sheep guy getting here?’ I ask Aveline. I’m don’t particularly feel like socialising tonight. I’ve never missed my bed this badly in my entire life.

‘He should be here in about ten minutes,’ she replies, ‘We were going to order pizza when he arrives.’

I take out my phone and check the time.

‘Do you need to eat now?’ she asks me.

I shake my head.

‘Should probably be okay for half an hour,’ I tell her, ‘But I should test now.’

As I start rummaging through my bag for my blood sugar monitor, I hear someone walk into the room. I know who it is before I look up.

‘Oh, hey,’ I say casually, ‘If I’d known you’d be here, I would have worn my leather jacket.’

I hear him snort.

‘Oh Leto!’ comes his annoying voice, ‘Do you write your own material? So funny!’

He’s my least favourite person in the world. Why Aveline and Donnic are friends with him, I will never know.

I look up at him with narrowed eyes. He’s wearing a ‘Pigs are friends, not food’ tshirt.

‘Leto and Anders. Play nice,’ Aveline sighs, ‘Please.’

I turn away from him. I’ll behave to make Aveline happy. But I do sort of want to cut off his stupid blond ponytail and shove it up his arse.

I prick my finger and test my blood sugar. Spot on. Nice.

I chuck my monitor on the counter and go and join Donnic in the lounge room, collapsing onto the sofa. Aveline comes in with a wheat bag and puts it on my feet. It’s fluffy and has pink paw prints on it. It makes me grin, and I close my eyes. I love Aveline.

‘I’m going to order food now,’ says Aveline, ‘I don’t want you having a hypo on me, Leto.’

I lean back into the sofa, stretching my legs out in front on me.

‘My monitor says I’m ok. I haven’t had a hypo in ages,’ I yawn, ‘I’m just buggered from work.’

‘I remember you said that last time,’ she mutters, ‘What does everyone want?’

‘Are you getting it from Orana’s?’ asks Anders, ‘She has vegan cheese there. It’s awesome!’

Aveline nods and picks up the phone.

‘I’ll have meat lovers,’ I snarl, staring directly at Anders, who sticks his finger up at me.

‘You’re a fucking child,’ he spits. I laugh. Annoying him is my favourite hobby. I don’t care how childish it is. It fills my heart with joy to see him angry.

Aveline has just finished ordering when the doorbell rings. MacDuff tears down the hallway barking loudly, stumpy legs scrabbling madly on the polished floorboards.

‘That must be The Man from Snowy River!’ I say. Sebastian throws a cushion at my face. I deserve it. That was pretty lame.

I hear muffled voices coming down the hallway. I can’t hear what they’re saying because fucking Anders is telling us how he and is equally annoying friend Karl are going to break into a battery hen farm and take secret footage. I tell him I hope he gets arrested.

Aveline and farm boy walk into the room. I’m sprawled out on the sofa with my messy hair and pink fluffy wheat bag feeling like a proper lazy arse.

‘Hey!’ comes an oddly familiar voice, ‘It’s Leto, the cake guy!’

Oh fuck. Not now.

I sit upright, kicking away my wheat bag (and wishing I hadn’t because now my feet are cold) and subtly try to fix my hair.

‘Oh,’ my stupid voice cracks, ‘Ah, hey!’

Aveline raises an eyebrow.

‘You two know each other?’ she asks.

He casually walks over and picks up the wheat bag, placing it back on my feet before collapsing into the sofa next to me. I swear I feel the earth shake. He’s fucking solid.

‘This is the guy who’s going turn me into the fattest person in Kirkwall,’ he grins. I feel my face turn pink.

The others stare at us with their mouths open. They know me and my… interests.

‘What?’ asks Garrett, looking confused, ‘I went into the bakery. He makes good cakes.’

‘Oh,’ splutters Aveline, ‘Yeah, yeah. He does indeed. Leto brought cake tonight, actually.’

The others are smirking at me. I know my face is red.

‘Really?’ he asks, looking at me with wide eyes, ‘You brought cake? You’re my new best friend!’

He’s grinning at me. God he’s cute.

‘Leto likes a man with a healthy appetite,’ laughs Anders, and I glare at him with my best deathstare.

Garrett stretches his arms above his head and yawns loudly. He’s wearing a tight tshirt and jeans. His shirt rides up a bit, exposing a bit of his hairy belly. I bite my lip.

‘So, everyone,’ says Aveline, ‘This is Garrett! He’s just moved down from the country.’

Anders narrows his eyes at the man.

‘Sheep farmer, right?’ he asks.

‘Yeah. My family has a property in Lothering.’

‘Do you mules?’ he growls, angrily.

I’m guessing that’s some kind of animal thing, because I see Garrett’s eyes flick down to read Anders’ shirt. He knows what he’s up against, and he sighs.

‘Yeah,’ he says calmly, ‘Yeah we do.’

Their eyes lock and I can feel the tension. I don’t even know what they’re talking about.

‘That’s disgusting cruelty,’ spits Anders.

‘Death by flystrike is an acceptable alternative?’ Garrett asks, leaning forward. He looks quite intimidating, actually.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ I ask, ‘What is mules?’

‘Mulesing!’ cries Anders, ‘Let me tell you all about it and how unbelievably wrong it is!’

Aveline rushes in between them, placing her hand on Anders’ chest and pushing him back.

‘Can we please not have this argument now?’ she says to Anders gently, ‘Sit down and calm down.’

Anders runs his hand through his hair angrily, but sits down again without a fuss. Garrett actually looks amused as he leans back into the sofa. I catch his eye and he grins at me.

‘Is he always like that?’ he asks.

I nod, returning a sleepy smile. Why did I have to see him tonight of all nights? I feel like a zombie.

Garrett leans back into the sofa, scooting a little closer to me. He leans over, and for a terrifyingly embarrassing moment, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me.

‘Your hair is white,’ he says softly.

‘Huh?’

‘Your hair,’ he says again, chuckling, ‘It’s white.’

I reach up and run my hands through my fringe.

‘Oh!’ I splutter, his face still very close to mine, ‘Flour! I have flour in my hair!’

Sebastian laughs. He’s been watching the whole exchange.

‘Leto gets more flour in his hair than he does in his cakes,’ he chuckles, ‘You’ll get used to it, Garrett.’

I’ve never cared about having flour in my hair before. But right now, with Garrett’s gaze focused on me, I feel like a bit of a scrag. Okay, I feel like a major scrag. What he must think of me.

‘I’m a mess,’ I mumble, ‘Sorry.’

‘You are simply dedicated to your craft!’ says Garrett with a smile.

He leans back, settling himself into his corner of the sofa. I can’t take my eyes off of him. The others are arguing over whether to watch _Lesbian Vampire Killers_ or not. We’ve already watched that movie at least twenty five times. I hope the pizza arrives soon. I think I’ll be asleep before it gets here.

‘I went into the bakery, but you weren’t there,’ Garrett pouts at me, ‘Some Welsh girl served me. I asked where you were, but she seemed confused.’

OHMYGOD.

‘When did you come in?’ I ask him, trying my best to sound casual. Trying and failing.

‘Tuesday after I finished work,’ he replies, ‘You said you worked Tuesdays!’

‘I do!’ I splutter, ‘I was baking out the back! God, Merrill’s a dope!’

‘She did seem… vague,’ he laughs, ‘She reminds me of someone. Someone off some TV show.’

‘ _Gavin and Stacey_ ,’ I say with a knowing smile.

‘Hey, yeah! How did you know?’ he asks.

‘She reminds everyone of Stacey,’ I chuckle, ‘And it’s not just the accent.’

We smile at each other. I realise I’ve gone several minutes without saying something embarrassing and I silently congratulate myself.

‘You look tired,’ Garrett tells me.

I nod. My eyelids feel droopy. ‘ _I’ll just let them close for a minute,’_ I tell myself. One minute, then I’ll be fine.

\----------------

‘Wake up!’

I feel someone shaking my shoulder. I swat their hands away and snuggle further into the sofa.

‘Leto,’ comes a soft voice, ‘You need to eat.’

‘Tired,’ I mumble, not opening my eyes.

‘You want to have a hypo?’ Sebastian asks sternly.

I yawn and stretch out, rubbing my eyes. I have to force myself to sit up. I’ve drooled on the sofa and I’m pretty sure that my hair looks even more ridiculous than it did before.

The pizza must have arrived a little while ago. It’s mostly eaten, and Garrett is sitting on the floor with Donnic and Anders playing _We Love Katamari_. He’s failing hard. Anders seems to have turned off his dick attitude for the evening and he and Garrett appear to be getting on alright now.

‘Why even?!’ Garrett cries, ‘This stupid fucking ball!’

I can’t help laughing.

‘Oh hey!’ he turns back to grin at me, ‘You were snoring.’

That grin. I can’t even deal with the cuteness! I feel my face go pink and I look down at my lap awkwardly.

Sebastian hands me a slice of pizza and I suddenly realise how hungry I am.

‘Eat, Leto,’ he demands.

I spend the next hour sitting with Aveline and Macduff on the sofa. The boys are devouring the cake I brought, and have moved on to _Mario Party_. I love _Mario Party_. I wish I had the energy to join in.

‘You look exhausted,’ Aveline says, brushing my hair out of my eyes, ‘You better stay the night. You’re not riding your bike home.’

‘I could drive him home, Aveline,’ Garrett offers, putting down his controller, ‘I can chuck his bike in the back of my ute.’

Oh my god. I don’t want to get in his car. I mean, I do want to get in his car. But I just know I’ll say something stupid and embarrassing. I’m already half asleep and I’m sure that means my verbal filter has shut off.

‘Take him home, Garrett,’ says Donnic, ‘The guy needs to sleep.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if the word ute is used outside of Australia. A ute is a pickup truck.

His ute’s a piece of crap. An actual piece of crap. I can’t believe that he hasn’t been pulled over and defected yet.

‘Does that thing actually run?’ I ask.

‘Sorta,’ he grins at me, ‘I learned to drive in this ute. I’m ridiculously attached to it. My mum told me to get myself a city car. But I’m not ready to part with the thing yet.’

‘I can just picture you driving around in a Nissan Micra,’ I say.

‘I wouldn’t fit in a Micra!’ he laughs.

He actually wouldn’t. The man’s built like a brick shithouse.

He grabs my bike and puts it in the tray. He has nice arms. I can’t stop looking at them. He could probably lift me up like I’m nothing. That’s a thought.

‘Leto?’

‘Huh?’ I stutter, ‘Yeah?’

‘Are you okay?’ He’s grinning at me with a raised eyebrow and I realise that I am staring at him with my mouth slightly open. I’m a moron.

‘Fine!’ I say, ‘I’m just really tried and… vague. Sorry.’

‘Then we had better get you home and into bed,’ he says with a smirk.

Yes. Get me into bed. I subtly try to move my bag so that it’s infront of my groin. Please don’t let him see my sudden, awkward semi.

I jump into the passenger seat. The ute’s about a million years old, but the seats are fairly new.

‘I thought I might get a spring up my arse,’ I blurt out as I sit down.

Garrett laughs.

‘I replaced the seats just before I moved,’ he says, ‘It’s a six and a half hour drive from Lothering to Kirkwall. I wouldn’t have made the drive with the old ones. They were awful.’

As I buckle up, I notice that the floor pan beneath my feet has almost rusted through.

‘Garrett?’ I ask.

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m legitimately afraid of your car,’ I say nervously, ‘Am I about to die?’

He jumps in and it takes several attempts to get the engine to turn over. When it finally springs into life, he smiles at me triumphantly.

‘She’s a good ute,’ he tells me, ‘She’ll get you home safe!’

I give him directions and we head off. He tells me all about his ute. He wasn’t joking when he said he was attached to it. He learned to drive when he was nine years old. Nine!

‘Do you like living in the city?’ I ask him.

He shakes his head sadly.

‘No, not really,’ he sighs, ‘I grew up in Lothering. It will always be my home. ’

‘Then why did you leave?’

He’s silent for a few moments. I think I just touched a nerve.

‘I didn’t really feel I had a choice,’ he says finally, sounding genuinely upset, ‘I had to get out.’

From the tone in his voice, I can tell that he doesn’t want to talk about it. For a moment, I swear I see tears in his eyes. He blinks hard and sighs and I suddenly feel like a jerk.

‘Hey!’ he sounds keen to change the subject, ‘You left your shoes at Aveline’s!’

Oh crap. I did too.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ I say, ‘They were covered in dog piss anyway.’

He laughs, but it sounds a little forced. I don’t think he’s happy.

He continues to talk as he drives me home, telling me mainly about his childhood adventures with Aveline. She would come and stay with his family during school holidays. He tells me about the time when they were seven, they caught a brown snake in a chaff bag and took it into the house to show his father.

I shudder.

He seems to think that it was quite funny. I just can’t believe that the two of them are still alive.

‘If you pin the head down, you can grab them quite easily,’ he says, proudly.

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I laugh, ‘What did your dad say?’

‘Oh, he was furious!’ he tells me, ‘I don’t think I ever saw him so angry.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

I yawn and rub my eyes, and realise that we’ve pulled up in front of my place.

‘I told you she’d get you home safe!’ he says, patting the dashboard and jumping out to grab my bike.

I get out somewhat more slowly, yawning again. My bed is so close, and I can’t wait for us to be reunited.

He wheels my bike up the path and leans it by the front door.

‘Thanks for driving me home, Garrett,’ I say, ‘Did you, ah… want to come in?’

What the fuck, brain?

He laughs at me, shaking his head.

‘You,’ he says, tapping his finger into the middle of my forehead, ‘are dead on your feet. Go to bed.’

‘Maybe you can, ah, come see me at work and get cake sometime? Only if you want. You don’t have to.’

‘ _Leto_ ,’ my brain is screaming, ‘ _Stop talking._ ’

‘ _No! Fuck you, brain!’_ says my mouth.

‘It’s up to you! I’ll be there.’ I continue.

He’s covering his mouth, trying to hide the fact that he’s laughing.

‘I’d like that, Leto,’ he chuckles, ‘Tell Stacey, or whatever her name is, to expect me.’

I can’t stop a huge smile spreading across my face. I look down at my feet awkwardly.

‘Ok! Great! I should, ah,’ I gesture towards my door, ‘do the bed thing! Cause I’m pretty tired. I’ve been awake for ages. I’m pretty tried. Yeah.’

‘Goodnight, Leto,’ he says with a smile, ‘Sweet dreams.’

I can’t get in my front door quick enough. I’m just going to hide in my house forever. Goodbye friends.

I immediately trip over a box of books. My house is a fucking sty. I can never let him in this house. I still haven’t gotten rid of the giant rat corpse still in the trap next to the front door. It’s been there for nine days now. What the hell was I thinking asking him to come in?

Tomorrow I will clean my house.

Actually, tonight I will say that tomorrow I will clean my house. Tomorrow I will probably not clean my house.

I make it to my bed by muscle memory alone. My nest. My favourite place in the world. I can’t stop thinking about Garrett. I’ve got it bad.

\-----------

‘This one is defiantly the best!’

‘The rosewater?’ I ask, ‘I thought it wouldn’t be sweet enough.’

Garrett picks up another piece of cake on his fork, looking at it closely before putting it in his mouth.

‘Yep,’ he says with his mouth full, ‘This one for sure.’

‘I told you!’ comes a placid voice behind me, ‘Everyone loves rosewater!’

Merrill leans on the counter next to me, completely oblivious to all the dirty tables on the other side of the bench.

The minute Garrett had walked into the store, she’d run madly out the back to fetch me.

‘ _That giant man with the beard is here!_ ’

I may have been very annoyed that she didn’t tell me about the last time he was here. I may have made her cry. Not intentionally, mind you. The girl cries over pretty much anything.

Today is the third day in a row that he’s come in after finishing work.

I’m telling myself that he keeps coming in to see me, but I suspect that he just really likes cake.

And now, here he is sitting at the counter eating his fourth cupcake. I managed to get him to agree to taste test some new cake recipes I’ve been working on. It didn’t actually take much persuasion.

‘Ok, but you haven’t tried the lavender and honey yet,’ I say, grabbing another still warm cake and placing it on the counter infront of him.

‘Are you trying to kill me?’ he asks with a groan, ‘Because I’ve nearly been cupcaked to death.’

I look away as I feel my face grow warm. I hear the door open and look up, glad to have a distraction for a moment.

Oh. No.

‘Kitten! Kitten kitten kitten!’

Please no. Just… no.

Isabela swoops over to the counter, seating herself next to Garrett and flashing him a wide grin. She not so subtly adjusts her shirt to show even more cleavage than normal.

‘Well hello there, you!’ she says in a sultry tone, looking him up and down.

He’s looking at her breasts. He’s not even trying to hide it. I want to cry.

‘Are you a friend of Leto’s?’ he asks casually, looking up and smiling at her.

‘I am!’ she leans in closer to him, ‘Isabela! And you are?’

‘Garrett,’ he introduces himself.

‘A pleasure to meet you, Garrett,’ she says, winking at him.

She’s asking for a slap in the face. Why is she doing this?

Then I realise that she has no idea who Garrett is. He’s fair game as far as she’s concerned. Anything with a pulse is fair game to her, if I‘m honest.

‘How goes the marigolds, my dear?’ she asks, tearing her gaze away from the man next to her.

‘Fine,’ I mumble.

‘And how about the other dilemma? Did he ever…’

‘OH MY GOD!’ I yelp, lunging forward in a panic and knocking a pile of plates to the floor. They smash into a million pieces. I can think of something else I’d like to smash into a million pieces.

All eyes are now fixed on me. I actually want to die.

‘Are you okay?’ Garrett asks in a worried tone.

‘Fine!’ I choke out, ‘I got dizzy for a moment. Blood sugar is probably a bit low.’ It’s not.

‘Perhaps you should sit down,’ he says.

Isabela has a look of pure mirth on her face. Her shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.

‘Oh, Leto!’ she says in mock concern, ‘You poor, poor boy!’

I glare at her. She knows exactly what’s going on.

Garrett reaches out and places a hand gently on my arm.

‘Sit down, Leto,’ he begs, ‘Please.’

‘Do as the man says,’ Isabela smirks, ‘He’s worried about you, kitten.’

Merrill rushes around to grab me a chair and I obediently sit. I feel like an idiot. An idiot having a fake hypo. I’ll just sit here awkwardly while Isabela pretends to fetch jelly beans from my bag. She’s still laughing.

‘Do you…’ Garrett asks in a quivering voice, ‘Do you, ah, need an injection?’

He’s crouching in front of me. He looks a little pale.

‘Huh? Injection?’ I ask, before my brain shifts back into gear, ‘Oh! No! No, don’t worry! Injections are for when blood sugar is too high! It’s okay.’

I see his shoulders relax and he lets out a huge sigh.

‘Thank god for that,’ he says, ‘I would have passed out if I’d had to see a needle. So you just need to eat some sugar?’

I nod.

‘Isabela’s going to,’ _pretending to_ , ‘get me some jelly beans.’

Isabela come back into the room and leans over me.

‘Garrett, she asks, ‘Can you please get him a glass of water?’

‘On it!’ he says, jumping up.

‘So this is your mystery man?’ she says softly, ‘Nice!’

I groan and drop my head into my hands. I suspect that she’s enjoying watching me suffer.

‘If you need to go home, Leto, I can close up,’ offers Merrill.

‘Yes, Leto,’ smirks Isabela, ‘Your blood sugar was dangerously low! You could have _DIED_!’

I cannot let Merrill close the bakery. I can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s… actually I don’t trust her.

Isabela is enjoying this far too much.

‘I hate you so much, Isabela,’ I mutter, ‘Merrill, I’m fine now. Fine! Good!’

‘Oh, really?’ asks Merrill, sounding surprised, ‘That was quick.’

‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ says Garrett, stepping infront of me and handing me a glass of water, ‘You scared me!’

Our eyes meet, and I can’t help smiling at him. I could probably reach out and touch his face and then blame it on brain fuzz. But for now, I’m just happy sharing a smile with him. God, he’s adorable!

I hear the door open and a group of young women walk in, talking loudly. They notice me sitting in the chair holding my glass of water, surrounded by two worried people. And one person trying to contain her laugher.

‘Oh! Is everything okay?’ one of the women asks.

‘He went into diabetic shock and _nearly died_!’ cries Isabela dramatically.

‘ISABELA!’ I yell, ‘I. AM. FINE!’

I stand up and walk around to the other side of the counter, glaring at Isabela as I do so.

‘Seriously,’ I say to the worried women standing near the cake stand,’ I’m fine. What can I get you?’

They order their cakes and I send Merrill out to clean a table for them. Which she does in her own sweet time, while the group stand there holding their plates and waiting for her to finish.

‘Are you going to be okay?’ asks Garrett, ‘Cause I need to catch my bus. And I don’t want to go home worrying about you.’

He’s too cute. Why is he so wonderful? I can’t bear it!

‘One hundred percent fine,’ I tell him with a smile.

He reaches over the counter and places his hand on my arm. My face is suddenly warm again.

‘Good,’ he says, ‘I’ll see you soon, yeah?’

I nod. This whole incident hasn’t turned out to badly, I guess. I actually feel pretty good.

Isabela scoots up to his side with a grin and threads her arm through his. I narrow my eyes at her.

‘Which bus do you catch, sweet thing?’ she asks.

‘172,’ he replies.

‘Oh great!’ she squeals, grabbing his arm tighter, ‘I catch the 112! They leave from the same stop. We can walk together! I’d love to chat more with you!’

My good mood starts to dissipate rapidly. I don’t want her to chat more with him. I don’t want that at all.

She winks at me as they walk towards the door. Before leaving, she turns and blows me a kiss. I actually hate her right now.

As soon as they’re out the door, I grab my phone and send her a text.

**_‘dont you dare say anything! dont you fucking dare!!!’_ **

Half a minute later, I get a reply.

**_‘relax, kitten! i’ll behave xx.’_ **

I slam my phone down hard enough to make Merrill jump. Isabela’s definition of the word ‘behave’ is rather lax.

I’m now in a thoroughly bad mood. I can just imagine what Isabela must be saying to him. I’ll probably never see him again. I wait until the women have finished their cakes and left before I unleash my fury on the bin. I kick it half way across to floor, sending rubbish everywhere and making Merrill yelp and scurry into the back room.

I spend the next hour sulking in between customers. Customers that I have to serve myself because Merrill is hiding from me. Not that I blame her.

She finally emerges from the back room when it’s time for her to leave.

‘Leto?’ she says meekly, ‘I did all the dishes and mopped the back room. Please don’t be angry at me.’

I run my hand through my hair and sigh, turning to face her.

‘Thank you, Merrill,’ I say, ‘That’s a great help. Sorry that I’m in such a foul mood.’

‘Do you need a hug?’ she asks, hovering a few metres away from me.

I shake my head and offer her a small smile. I’d rather she just leave me to brood in peace.

‘Okay,’ she says timidly, ‘I’m off. Be good.’

Once she’s gone, I try to distract myself from my bad mood by rearranging the cookie jars, when I hear my phone ring.

It’s Isabela.

I’m not answering her. I hate her.

So naturally I answer my phone.

‘What did you say to him?’ I yell.

‘ _Calm down, kitten!’_ she says, ‘ _I have good news!_ ’

‘Nothing you can tell me now will be good news.’

‘ _He’s gay!’_ she squeals.

‘What?’

‘ _Gay! Full homo! Loves the cock!_ ’ she sounds like she enjoying this a bit too much.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh.

‘And how did you find that out?’ I ask.

‘ _I asked him!’_

That fucking bitch.

‘You asked him?’ I groan, ‘What, just out of the blue?’

‘ _How else was I supposed to find out?_ ’ she laughs.

I drop my head into my free hand and sigh.

‘Well, now he’s going to think I put you up to it!’

‘ _Leto, sweetheart,’_ she says, ‘ _You think too much. He likes you! I can tell! You need to calm down. You overthink things and get too worked up. Give yourself a break. Please, kitten._ ’

‘Your words are not a source of comfort right now, Isabela,’ I groan.

‘ _If you want to spend the night beating yourself up about this, that’s fine_. _Go ahead_ ,’ she sighs, ‘ _Love you, moron_.’

‘Love you, wench,’ I sigh, hanging up my phone.

It’s nearly time to close. I wipe down the tables and dispose of the leftover cakes. By the time I’ve finished, I’m starting to feel a bit better.

I decide to walk home. It’s a nice night and the air will clear my head.

I’m halfway home when I hear my phone vibrate in my pocket.

‘Fuck off, Isabela,’ I mutter, pulling it out to read the message.

‘ ** _hey its garrett. bela gave me your number hope that’s ok. just wanted to check your ok.’_**

My hands are shaking. Fuck.

I stop walking and stare at the message. I have no idea what to do.

After about few minutes, my brain starts working again and I realise that I should probably text him back. So I get to work typing a message.

Ten minutes and sixteen drafts later, I send him a reply.

‘ ** _Hey Garrett! Thanks, I’m fine XD I’m on my way home now.’_**

I’ve only just sent the message when he replies.

**_‘cool. glad ur ok. sweet dreams :)’_ **

I immediately save his number into my phone, then hold it to my chest like a fucking idiot and grin madly.

I fucking love Isabela.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It’s Friday morning and my phone is ringing.

I burrow deeper into my bed and wait for the loud ringtone to stop assaulting my eardrums.

The moment it’s quiet again, I begin to drift back to sleep.

The obnoxious noise starts up again.

I lean over the side of my bed and grab my phone from the floor where I dropped it last night.

It’s my boss, Alistair. And it’s seven thirty in the morning.

The phone rings out before I’ve made up my mind whether to answer or not. He can leave me a message if it’s important. I probably won’t listen to it though.

I’ve only just dropped my phone onto the side of my pillow and started snuggling back into my covers when he rings again.

Reluctantly, I hit _answer_.

‘What do you want?’ I growl.

I am not a morning person. I will never be a morning person. I don’t understand how normal people function before midday. And right now, I’m NOT happy.

‘ _Heyyyy, Leto!_ ’ he says nervously, ‘ _I figured you’d be asleep so I thought I’d just keep ringing until you woke up and answered. Sorry!_ ’

‘I only just went to bed,’ _five hours ago_ , ‘What is it?’

‘ _Well,_ ’ he says, ‘ _I have no one to work the mid shift today. Can you work?_ ’

No. Fuck off Alistair.

‘Ask Elissa,’ I yawn.

I hear him laugh nervously.

‘ _When I tried to wake her, she threatened to slap me.’_

The thought of Alistair getting slapped by his wife makes me chuckle. I sort of feel like slapping him myself right now.

I force myself to sit up and I stretch my legs. I’m sure that the universe has some sort of evil plan to keep me separated from my beloved bed.

‘ _Leto?_ ’

I rub my eyes. I tend to have a short temper, especially if I’m woken early. But Alistair is just… He’s hard to get mad at. He’s just too damn endearing. Still, I have to tell myself to be good.

‘Okay, fine,’ I moan in a sleepy voice, ‘What time do you want me?’

‘ _Oh, thank you, Leto!_ ’ he gushes, ‘ _Thank you! Can you come in at eleven_?’

I can picture his goofy smile and I feel bad for growling at him. But only briefly.

‘Yeah, whatever,’ I say, ‘Eleven. I’ll be there.

Okay. It’s seven thirty now. If I go back to sleep immediately, I don’t have to wake up for another two hours and fifteen minutes. That’s if I skip having a shower.

I decide that sleep is more important than hygiene, set my alarm, and collapse back into my pillows.

\-------------

The clock says 18:02 when Donnic walks in.

I was supposed to meet him after he finished work at five.

I totally forgot.

‘Leto!’ he sighs. ‘Thanks for letting me know you got called in to work. Otherwise I would have stood around for ages waiting for you.’

I reach into my pocket to grab my phone in an attempt to pull the ‘ _Well why didn’t you ring me’_ defence. No phone. It’s on my floor. Near the bedroom door. Where I threw it this morning when my alarm went off.

Again, mornings. I hate them.

‘Shit,’ I say guiltily, ‘Sorry. I fucked up.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Donnic says, shrugging his shoulders, ‘I rang Isabela and she told me you were here.’

‘I haven’t even spoken to Bela today.’

‘Elissa told her,’ he says, ‘apparently you growled at Alistair on the phone.’

So now Alistair is grumpy and his wife’s bitching about me to our friends. I don’t actually care.

‘Alistair knows not to call me in the morning,’ I sigh, ‘If he rings me early, he’s gonna get growled at. He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it.’

Donnic takes a seat at the counter and says hi to Merrill. She doesn’t notice because she’s too busy arranging coffee beans in an intricate pattern next to the espresso machine and giggling to herself.

‘Sebastian’s going to pick you up at six thirty,’ he says, giving up on Merrill and turning back to me.

‘Huh?’

‘On the seventeenth,’ Donnic sighs, ‘You know, the day I’m getting married?’

Oh yeah. That.

I look forward to waking up at stupid o’clock. I be fine company for that car ride, I’m sure.

‘Is Anders going with him as well?’ I ask. I don’t want to spend an hour and a half sitting in a car with that man.

Donnic looks at me with a pained expression. I know I’m being a pain in the arse.

‘It’s one day out of your life, Leto,’ he sighs, ‘It’s my fucking wedding day. Can you just sit in a car with him, please? Just for one day?’

I don’t reply, I just stare down at the counter with my chin in my hands. I don’t want to upset Donnic, but I also don’t want to spend my morning stuck in a car with Anders.

But I’m being a massive jerk.

‘Okay,’ I sigh, ‘It’ll be fine.’

We start discussing details, when Donnic’s phone rings. It’s Wife to Be.

‘Hey, Aveline…’

I can hear her yelling on the other end of the phone. Properly screaming. Donnic has to pull the phone away from his ear.

‘Whoa! Okay, Aveline,’ he yelps, ‘Can you calm down for a moment?’

There are currently six customers in the bakery, and their stares are now firmly focused on Donnic. He walks over to the back corner, away from everyone, but I can still here Aveline’s yells coming through the phone. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but she sounds _pissed_ _off_.

I’ve seen Aveline loose her temper a total of one time. It was not good. Not good at all. People tend to back down from her the moment she begins to get annoyed. I know I do, and I’m certainly not one to back down from an argument. I can’t imagine what could have happened to make her so angry.

‘I don’t care what he thinks!’ the anger in Donnic’s voice is rising, ‘He can’t speak to you like that!’

He pacing now. He looks as angry as Aveline sounds.

‘Yes... I will talk to him… I WILL!’

I manage to catch his eye, and I shoot him a worried look. He just shakes his head furiously.

‘Okay… I’ll go there now… Yes… I will murder him in the face for you, how does that sound?’

I can’t hear her voice anymore. God I hope she’s not crying. Is she capable of crying?

‘Yes… Yes… Okay. I love you,’ he sighs, hanging up his phone and looking at me with an expression that screams ‘ _Help me!_ ’

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say.

‘Fucking Anders!’ he says through clenched teeth, ‘I’m going to end his life!’

Donnic’s actually angry. This must be serious.

I grab Merrill and ask her to man the register, then jump across the counter and grab Donnic by the arm. I lead him outside before he scares all our customers away.

‘Ok,’ I ask, ‘What has he done?’

He still pacing.

‘We went out of our way to have his shoes made without any leather,’ he growls, ‘It cost us a fortune because they had to use some special material but still match the others.’

Why do people bother getting married? Too much work. Way too much.

‘What’s wrong with them?’ I ask.

‘The glue! The glue in the shoes has some sort of animal by-product in it. THE GLUE!’

This is typical of Anders. I once saw him verbally abuse a woman in a supermarket for having honey scented body wash in her basket. We were kicked out of said supermarket only moments later.

‘So now,’ Donnic continues, ‘He’s refusing to wear them. He just rang Aveline and told her that she’s ‘ _insensitive to his beliefs’_. She’s refusing to talk to him about it. She’s worried that she’ll hurt him physically.’

‘Anders is a dick,’ I mutter, and Donnic lets out a frustrated laugh.

‘Anyway,’ he says, ‘I’m expected to deal with it now. So down the animal shelter I go to punch him in the face.’

Anders has a screw loose. Multiple screws.

He’s a qualified vet, but refuses to get a paid job. He volunteers at the local animal shelter. He pretty much lives there, treating the sick animals for free. I suppose it’s actually quite a respectable thing to do, but his mere existence offends me and I therefore disagree with every one of his life choices.

‘Come back inside and I’ll make you a strong coffee before you go,’ I tell Donnic, ‘And if you do punch him in the face, make sure that there’s someone there to film it.’

I can’t actually imagine Donnic punching anyone in the face. I imagine his confrontation with Anders will just involve a lot of frustrated sighing and a lot of _Will you please just listen to me_ ’s.

As we turn for the door, I hear a voice from behind me.

‘Hey, Leto! Why are you at work today?’

My favourite voice.

I turn around as casually as I can, and I really wish I’d bothered to at least brush my hair this morning.

He has a stupid grin on his face. I’m pretty sure that’s his default setting. I love that grin.

‘Got called in this morning. I’m working till seven.’

I’ve seen him nearly every weekday for the past three weeks. The bakery is on the way to his bus stop and he drops in most evenings on his way home. I should be over this pathetic nervousness by now, but every time I see him I get this jolt through my entire body. It starts in my chest and spreads though my limbs and neck, settling in my hands and feet and making my scalp tingle. It also renders my brain virtually useless.

I’m twenty seven. I’m a twenty seven year old school girl.

‘What have you got planned for this evening?’ he asks casually.

‘Nothing!’ I squeak, ‘No plans. Just… stuff. I guess.’

‘Just stuff?’ asks Garrett, ‘Well that does sound exciting!’

Oh great. My face is going red. I turn quickly and grab the door, scurrying back inside. I can hear him chuckling softly as he follows.

Donnic is sitting at the counter talking to Merrill and looking thoroughly defeated.

Garrett doesn’t notice the man’s expression and takes a seat next to him.

‘Two weeks!’ he grins at Donnic, ‘Two weeks and you’ll be married!’

Donnic buries his face in his hands.

‘I’ll be dead by then,’ he groans.

Garrett looks at me and I shake my head with a sigh.

‘Last minute disaster,’ I inform him, ‘Anders is being a grade A dick.’

Garrett claps Donnic on the back sympathetically, and the man takes a deep breath and stands up with a determined look.

‘If I murder him, you guys are my alibi, right?’ he states, ‘I was with you all night.’

‘Got it!’ says Garrett, giving him a thumbs up, ‘I’ve always wanted to help cover up a murder.’

As we watch him leave, I run my hand though my hair and sigh.

‘I don’t envy him,’ I say, ‘Anders is not going to back down.’

Garrett leans back on the counter and loosens his tie.

‘What’s happened exactly?’ he asks.

‘Vegan bullshit,’ I mutter.

He just laughs and shakes his head.

It’s nearly time for me to leave and Garrett’s staring at me. Why is he staring at me? I probably have something on my face.

‘Did you, ah, want to get dinner with me?’ he asks casually, ‘I don’t feel like eating some microwave trash when I get home.’

What?

YES. YES I DO.

My brain takes the opportunity to stop working and I just stare at him with wide eyes.

‘If you just want to go home, that’s okay,’ he chuckles nervously, ‘But you finish now and I thought you might be hungry.’

_Come on brain, we can do this!_

‘No!’ I blurt out, ‘I mean, yes! I’d love to get dinner!’

He smiles widely at me and I think I actually want to dance. Just for a moment.

‘Good! Great!’ he beams, ‘There’s this place a couple of blocks away that I’ve been meaning to check out. I can’t remember the name, but Bela likes it.’

Garrett and Isabela have become quite good friends since their first meeting. Though their friendship seems to revolve around sending each other frequent revolting sexual text messages. And I know this because Isabela delights in showing them to me at every fucking opportunity. I never knew that there were so many euphemisms for the word penis.

I’m suddenly very aware that I look like a trash bag.

‘Do I have flour in my hair?’ I ask Garrett nervously.

‘A little,’ he grins at me, ‘But then you always do.’

He waits for me to grab my bag from out the back, and I spend a moment trying to fix my hair. Is this a date? Or are we just friends getting dinner? _Probably just friends_ , I tell myself. But still, I feel like a love struck teenager going to get ice cream with a boy from school that I have a crush on.

Instead I’m a grown man who works in a bakery going out to dinner with the guy from the _Department of Primary Industries, Parks, Water and Environment_ that I have a crush on. I need to grow up.

When I’m satisfied that my hair is once again mostly black, I tell myself to calm down and head out to join him.

He’s laughing about something with Merrill when he sees me walk out. She’s given up on her coffee bean art it seems.

‘Ready to go?’ Garrett asks, smiling widely at me.

I feel my cheeks go pink and I nod.

‘Great!’ he says, grabbing his bag, ‘I’m starving!’

As we walk out into the street together, I realise that tonight, I feel happier than I have in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a pretty clear idea of where this is going now. There may be a few angsty chapters coming up.


	5. Chapter 5

I have no idea what to say.

I often imagine the witty and interesting conversations I would like to have with Garrett.

But right now, I’ve got nothing.

It’s a good thing then the man never actually shuts up.

His boss, Meredith, is a bitch apparently. She’s giving him attitude about asking for a week off. In six months.

He uses some fairly colourful language to descried her to me.

‘It’s my baby brother and sister’s birthday! They’re turning twenty one!’ he sighs, ‘And she actually asked me ‘ _How long have you known about this?_ ’. I mean, what the fuck? If I was asking for next week off, I’d understand. But it’s _six months_ away! And she’s having a cry about it!’

I can’t help laughing. She does sound like a bitch.

‘Thank you, Leto,’ he pouts, ‘It’s not funny.’

The wounded look he gives me just makes me laugh harder.

‘I’m sorry!’ I choke out, ‘It’s just such a ridiculous thing to refuse! She sounds like she’s on a power trip.’

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

‘Oh she is,’ he says, ‘Everyone’s scared of her. And she’ll let me have the time off. I’ll make sure of that. She’s just being an epic bitch about it.’

He silent for a few moments, and I try to kick my brain into gear. Being so far from home seems to be very hard on him. I imagine he’d go back for his siblings’ birthday whether he’s given the time off or not.

Before I get the chance to ask him if he’s okay, he continues.

‘I just miss my family, man,’ he sighs.

He clearly does. He has that same far off look that I saw the night he drove me home.

‘Tell me about your family,’ I say.

For a moment, I think that I shouldn’t have asked. But he smiles.

‘I have a sister, Bethany. She’s into horses. She’s a very good at dressage.’

Oh, dressage. That’s that thing I’ve never even heard of.

‘I don’t know what that is,’ I say sheepishly.

‘Ah…’ he’s looking for the right words to describe it to a dumbass, it seems, ‘Fancy riding? I don’t know how to explain it. Like, um, making the horse dance? I think it’s boring as hell to be honest.’

I’m too embarrassed to admit that I’ve never actually seen a horse up close. I bet they smell bad.

‘Can you ride?’ I ask.

‘Yeah. I rode a lot when I was a kid,’ he says, ‘but I prefer dirt bikes. You don’t have to get up early to feed them. And they don’t kick.’

‘What about your brother?’

‘Carver? He just likes shooting things with his mates,’ he chuckles, ‘He’s running the farm now with my mum. He’s doing okay, which surprises me a bit.’

‘You brother runs the farm? What about your dad?’

Oh Leto, you fool. That was a stupid question.

‘My dad’s dead,’ he says bluntly.

I had a feeling that was coming, but… Well, fuck.

‘I’m really sorry,’

‘People die,’ he says, shrugging his shoulders, ‘And it sucks. But life goes on. I was supposed to take over the farm after dad died. It’s something I always expected to end up doing when I was a kid, but then I, ah… had to leave. So I got a job here in Kirkwall.’

We fall back into silence.

‘You really miss the country, don’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ he sighs, ‘But I don’t really want to talk about it. How about you? Tell me about you. Like, where the fuck did you learn to make such awesome cakes?’

And we’ve arrived at the moment that he learns that I’m an uneducated loser. I suppose I could lie, but lies inevitably end up coming back to bite you in the arse.

‘Dropped out of school at fourteen,’ I tell him, ‘I was shit at everything but baking. So, that’s what I do now.’

That really made me sound like a defeatist. I’m not. Well, I don’t think I am.

‘Your parent’s let you drop out of school at fourteen? My mum would have killed me if I’d tried that!’

‘I don’t know my dad, and my mum ran off to Amsterdam with some artist guy when I was twelve. I haven’t spoken to her in years.’

‘Shit,’ he says. I guess it’s his turn to feel like he jerk, ‘That’s rough man. I’m sorry.’

‘I have a sister,’ I tell him, ‘Varania. But, we don’t get on. Last time I saw her about a year ago, she tried to have me arrested. We loved each other as kids. When my mum did a runner, we just… well, things changed.’

He’s looking at me with genuine pity in his eyes. I hate it when people pity me. I don’t need pity. I’m not a weak person. Short tempered, maybe. But not weak.

I realise that I’m clenching my fists. Garrett’s noticed as well.

‘Hey,’ he says softly, reaching for my arm. I involuntarily pull away. I feel like a loser and I can’t look him in the eye. So I just stare at my feet.

‘I don’t need them,’ I say, struggling to meet his gaze, ‘I have my friends.’

‘Yes you do. They care about you a lot, Leto.’

This is not how I wanted this evening to go.

So far, I’ve brought up his dead father. I’ve brought up him having to leave his home town for reasons that are obviously upsetting. I’ve told him I dropped out of school when I was practically a child. And he knows my family pretty much abandoned me. So much for witty and interesting.

‘Look at this fucking otter!’

Huh?

Garrett’s shoving his phone in my face.

‘Look at it!’

I look.

It’s a picture of an otter eating a piece of watermelon. It’s the stupidest looking animal I’ve ever seen, and it’s actually fucking hilarious.

‘What the hell is he doing with that watermelon?’ asks Garrett in the kind of voice you would use to get a dog excited about a stick, ‘Does he think he’s people?’

I have no idea what this crazy, gorgeous bearded man is on about. He’s ridiculous.

I start to laugh. He starts to laugh. We are both laughing in the middle of the footpath while people walk around us. We must look like a pair of idiots. But right now, I don’t care.

As I catch my breath and wipe tears from my eyes, I feel large, calloused fingers brushing hair out of my eyes.

My legs nearly give out on me.

‘Hey,’ Garrett says, smiling at me, ‘Feel better?’

All I can muster in response is a feeble nod. But I’m smiling.

‘We all have shitty pasts in one way or another,’ he says, ‘Let’s just settle for being happy where we are now.’

Right now, I’m pretty happy just being here with him.

‘You’re cute when you laugh,’ he grins, pulling me into a friendly hug, ‘You should do it more often.’

\--------------

We arrive at The Pearl about ten minutes later.

‘Oh, I have heard Isabela mention this place!’ I exclaim.

She does like it. We often joke that it’s actually a front for a brothel, since she so often picks up at the bar here. I always pictured it to look seedier. It actually looks nice.

It’s not too busy considering that it’s a Friday night. I’m glad we don’t have to wait for a table, because I’m properly starving.

We order drinks and I look at the menu.

There’s a lot of fish. I really hope Garrett doesn’t order anything remotely seafood, because the sight and smell of fish makes me want to vomit.

Luckily, he seems every excited about ordering steak. I’m safe for now.

I decide to get the quail, but I have to do something first.

‘I just, ah, have to go do something secret before I eat,’ I say nervously.

Garrett gives me a mischievous grin.

‘Something secret?’ he asks.

‘Yeah.’

‘You can’t tell me you have to do something secret, and then not tell me what it is!’ he pouts.

‘That’s what a secret is,’ I laugh, ‘If I tell you, it won’t be a secret anymore. Anyway, trust me. You don’t want to know. I should have just said that I was going to the bathroom, but I have to take my bag and it would look… suspicious.’

He’s giving me the full puppy dog eyes now. And it sort of makes me want to reach out and pat his head.

‘I’ve clearly got you over excited with this secret business,’ I tell him with a chuckle, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

I pick up my bag and quickly head to the bathroom for an insulin shot.

When I get back, Garrett is tearing into the bread.

‘Hey!’ he says nervously, ‘Does your secret business have anything to do with needles?’

I nod and his face goes a little pale.

‘Okay! Good! Though so. Let’s leave it at that,’ he says, turning his attention back to the bread, ‘And let’s talk about puppies, or kittens, or anything but injections.’

When our food arrives, he eats as if it the last time. I can’t help laughing at his enthusiasm. He has the most impressive appetite I think I’ve ever seen.

Yet, he still manages to carry on talking nonstop, despite the fact his mouth is never actually not full.

I’ve never know anyone to talk so much. Which is good, because it takes the pressure off of me.

I like this guy far too much.

This guy who has just eaten half a cow, and is now finishing off the food left on my plate.

‘Oh damn!’ he groans, leaning back in his chair and holding his stomach, ‘I ate way too much!’

I half consider asking if he wants a belly rub, but that would probably be weird. Okay, it would defiantly be weird. I do really want to give him a belly rub, though.

‘I can’t believe little Aveline will be married in two weeks!’ Garrett says, snapping me out of my mildly arousing trance.

‘ _Little_ Aveline?’ I laugh, ‘Little Aveline, who could probably bench-press three of me?’

Garrett chuckles, repositioning himself in his chair in an attempt to get more comfortable.

‘I’ve known her since we were two. She’ll always be little Aveline to me.’

I always pictured Aveline to have been born with giant biceps. In fact, I can’t really picture her as a child at all. Isabela tells me she used to wear her hair in pigtails when they were at school. I don’t believe her. And Aveline refuses to show me a picture.

‘I just have to make it to the venue without murdering anyone,’ I tell him, ‘And it’ll all be fine.’

‘And what would cause you to commit murder on such a happy day?’

‘I have to go in Sebastian’s car,’ I groan, ‘Which is fine. But He’s taking Anders as well.’

Garrett smirks at me.

‘You two really do not get on at all, do you?’

I shake my head. It’s nothing more than childish rivalry, but I’m very attached to my resentment of the man. I’ve carried it for years, and it’s become a part of who I am. And he really is a massive dick.

‘It’s lucky they’re picking me up so early,’ I say, ‘Between Anders’ animal rights crap and Sebastian’s Christian rock, I would throw myself from that car the second it hit the freeway. At least I’ll be too tired to do that.’

‘Sebastian listens to Christian rock?’ Garrett asks, raising an eyebrow.

‘Oh, he’s ‘ _On fire for the Lord’_. His words,’ I mutter.

‘Aveline said he’s banged half the women in Kirkwall.’

‘He has,’ I say, ‘But that was before he found God. But he’s a good guy. He’s fine. And he’s _so_ going to Heaven.’

Garrett leans forward, resting his chin in one hand and swirling what’s left of his drink in the other.

‘If you don’t want to go with them,’ he shrugs, ‘You could come with me.’

An hour and a half in the scary ute sounds light years better than sitting next to Anders for any amount of time. An hour and a half sitting next to Garrett sounds better that anything.

‘Okay,’ I say with a grin, ‘But I’m not much of a morning person. You may have to break my door down. I don’t wake up easily.’

‘So stay the night at mine. I have a spare room. I’ll even wake you with coffee.’

He’s looking at me with those hazel eyes and I’m suddenly very aware of my body. It feels wrong. My arms are all wrong. I should just sit normally, but I’ve forgotten what normal is. How do normal people even sit? The thought of spending the night at his house has reset my brain to awkward mode.

‘I don’t mind, Leto,’ he continues, ‘I’m a farm boy, remember? I’m used to waking up early. I’ll wake you at the last minute. You can have maximum sleepage.’

‘Hmm,’ I smile, relaxing a bit, ‘That does sound better than being woken by Anders first thing in the morning.’

He leans back in his chair and grins at me.

‘Then it’s sorted! Are you okay with big dogs? Because I have a BIG dog.’

I like dogs. Especially big dogs.

‘In my experience, big dogs are far better behaved than small dogs,’ I laugh.

‘My dog is pretty hyperactive,’ he says with a grin, ‘And he farts a lot.’

I don’t care how much his dog farts. I’m going to spend the night with him. At least, in the same house.

I have to once again remind myself that I am not, in fact, sixteen.

‘I’ll walk you home,’ he says, ‘It’s a lovely night.’

\-----------------

It really is a nice night.

And I’m walking next to the man that I have a pathetic crush on.

We decide to walk through the Hightown Night Market. It’s mostly filled with people trying to sell their shitty handmade goods. But it’s on the way home, and I enjoy looking at the secondhand book stalls when I get the chance.

Garrett thinks it’s all pretty funny. He’s quietly laughing over a stall that is selling hand knitted dog collars.

‘Oh, this is brilliant!’ I hear him say under his breath.

We move onto a small jewellery stall and Garrett immediately pounces on something.

‘Hey, Leto!’ he cries triumphantly, ‘Look at this!’

He’s picked up a small horse charm that looks like it’s made of brass.

‘Beth would love this,’ he says.

I lean over to take a closer look. It looks old and I really think it’s very nice.

‘You should get it for her,’ I tell him, ‘It’s pretty.’

While Garrett is paying for the charm, I take a look at the other pieces on the table.

It’s mostly tacky, but there are a few genuinely nice things.

Something catches my eye.

It’s a simple bracelet. Braided from three thin strips of red leather, with a stainless steel clasp. For a moment, I consider buying it.

But it’s not something I need, and I certainly don’t wear bracelets.

Well, apart from my Medic Alert bracelet. But I don't really have a choice about that.

It would only get covered in cake batter anyway.

Even so, I pick it up to take a closer look. I really do like it.

Garrett is tucking the charm in his jacket pocket, and I put the bracelet back down on the table with a sigh. ‘ _You don’t need it,_ ’ I tell myself.

I wander ahead to look at the next stall, which is a table full of little glass animals. They are kind of cute, and kind of demented. I guess it’s hard to make a glass giraffe that has eyes that look in the same direction. But I’ll give the artist points for trying.

While I’m busy trying not to laugh at a mouse with vastly different sized ears, I hear Garrett catch up with me.

‘Hey,’ he says, and I turn around, ‘Hold out your arm.’

I raise an eyebrow, and he beams at me. He reaches out and grabs my right hand, pulling my arm out so that it’s infront of my chest.

‘Here,’ he says proudly, ‘Present.’

He bought me the fucking bracelet. It’s just a tacky, cheap piece of shit from an evening market.

But I love it.

He fastens it around my wrist, and I don’t know what to say. So I just stare at him.

‘You did want it,’ he asks nervously, ‘Didn’t you?’

My face breaks into a wide smile, and I see him relax.

‘I did want it,’ I grin, inspecting it closely, ‘Thank you, Garrett. I actually love it.’

‘Good!’ he sighs, ‘For a moment there I thought I’d bought something that you thought was hideous.’

I can’t help laughing softly at the relief on his face.

‘You make me laugh, you silly man,’ I chuckle.

‘Yeah,’ he says with a grin, ‘I’m pretty awesome.’

He is.

He snakes his arm around my shoulder, and we continue our walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that people are still enjoying this! I'm enjoying writing it XD Thank you to all the lovely people who have left comments and kudos :) I appreciate it!


	6. Chapter 6

I’ve never been this proud of anything I’ve ever done in my life. Ever.

It’s fucking perfect.

It took me nine hours to make all the fondant marigolds alone, and I’ve been working for fifteen hours straight.

I’ve got the shakes, I can’t really see straight and my shoulders are killing me.

But I’ve finished Aveline and Donnic’s wedding cake.

I can’t believe how good it looks.

‘Is that the look of someone who is very proud of himself,’ asks Garrett, ‘Or someone who is about to burst into tears?’

He’s been with me in this kitchen for the last four hours.

And I’ve been terrible company.

I’ve been grumpy, sweary and there’s pale frosting smeared on the wall where I threw a bowl in a fit of fury. But he’s stayed with me from the moment he got off work. I think I would have gone insane if he hadn’t been here.

Even though I threatened to throw a food processor at him when he laughed while I was trying to attach a particularly delicate marigold.

‘I’ve made hundreds of wedding cakes in the eight years I’ve worked here,’ I sigh, rubbing my aching shoulders, ‘But this has been the most stressful thing I’ve ever done. I mean, it’s a wedding cake for my best friends!’

Garrett steps up behind me, and I feel him start to gently massage my shoulders.

‘You need to relax,’ he says softly, ‘Your shoulders are tight as hell.’

‘I think it’s more overwork than stress now.’

‘Now we just have to hope it gets there safely!’ he chuckles from behind me.

‘Don’t say that. Please.’

I close my eyes and sigh as I feel my muscles begin to loosen, leaning back into the strong hands working on my shoulders. He’s good at this.

‘You’re amazingly talented, Leto,’ says Garrett softly, leaning into my shoulder, ‘You know that, right?’

I feel my face turn pink. I’m not good with compliments.

‘It’s done. Brennan’s picking it up tomorrow,’ I say, ‘And if anything happens to it, I’ll cry.’

‘Take the compliment,’ he sighs, pushing his thumb into a particularly tight spot at the base of my neck, ‘Don’t change the subject.’

‘I’m just doing my job,’ I groan in pleasure as I feel the knot release, ‘It’s what I do.’

‘You do it well.’

He begins to move his hands up my neck.

Shit, it feels amazing. I didn’t even know my neck was tight. My entire body is tingling in pleasure.

‘So good…’ I moan unintentionally.

I can feel him silently laughing. I think I may actually melt. His touch is so wonderful.

‘We should probably get you home,’ says Garrett.

I don’t want this to stop. This is too good.

‘I still have to clean,’ I sigh, rubbing my eyes roughly enough to see colours.

‘No. No you don’t,’ he states, ‘Alistair and Elissa are here. They’ll sort it out.’

I turn around and look at him. He still has one hand resting on my shoulder.

‘Are they here now?’ I ask.

‘They’ve been here since nine!’ Garrett laughs, ‘They’ve been sticking their noses in the door every half an hour, you freak. Have you really not noticed?’

Well, apparently not. I guess I was in the zone.

I chuckle and shake my head.

‘I don’t know what’s going on at this point,’ I tell him, ‘All I can think about is cake.’ _And your hands rubbing my neck._

‘Leto, that looks ah-mazing!’ I hear Alistair say as he steps into the kitchen. His wife is right behind him.

Elissa eyes widen as she walks up to the table to inspect the cake.

I don’t want to hear any gushing. I know I’ve done a good job, but hearing people carry on about it is embarrassing.

‘You!’ says Elissa, turning to face me, ‘You are a star, Leto! Aveline is going to die when she sees this! I’m going to call her right now. I don’t care how late it is, she needs to see this NOW.’

She gets her phone out and I’m desperate to escape. I don’t want to see Aveline’s reaction tonight. I know she’ll be thrilled, and I’m too tired to deal with any more praise. I’ve been here since eight thirty in the damn morning.

I feel a large arm wrap around my shoulders.

‘I’m gonna get this guy home,’ says Garrett.

I could kiss him. Get me the fuck out of here.

‘Don’t you want to see Aveline?’ asks Alistair, ‘She’s going to go MENTAL.’

Let Aveline come and see her cake. She can carry on all she wants. I just want to go home. She can gush at me when she sees me the day after tomorrow.

Her wedding day. I can’t believe it finally here.

‘I’ve already called a taxi,’ says Garrett, ‘Leto’s tried. He needs to go home.’

‘That’s fair enough,’ Elissa says, pulling me into a tight hug, ‘We’ll sort this mess out, you clever boy.’

‘Sorry about the wall,’ I mutter.

Alistair just laughs and pats me on the shoulder.

‘At least it’s only frosting,’ he laughs, ‘Remember the time you put your fist through Anders’ wall? That was FUNNY!’

I snort and cover my mouth. That was quite an amusing afternoon, the day I punched a hole in Anders’ wall. He totally deserved it.

Garrett’s looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

‘These little arms punched a hole in a wall?’ he asks, squeezing my upper arm gently.

‘I was mad,’ I say sheepishly, ‘And it was plasterboard.’

‘I look forward to hearing that story,’ he grins, leading me towards the door, ‘Perhaps you can tell me tomorrow night?’

‘I will,’ I tell him with a weary grin, ‘It’s one of my most celebrated temper tantrums.’

The taxi is out the front, waiting for us. Usually I’d prefer to walk, but not tonight.

We don’t talk during the taxi ride. We are both far too exhausted. I watch Garrett struggling to keep his eyes open. He’s so tired, yet he chose to stay with me while I finished the cake. I smile and let my eyes close.

I feel his fingertips gently brush my hand, and he starts playing with the bracelet still firmly fastened around my wrist. I haven’t taken it off since the night he bought it for me, two weeks ago.

When I look up at him, he’s smiling at me with tired eyes. I smile back, before being overcome by a huge yawn.

We’ve pulled up infront of my house.

‘I’m leaving work early tomorrow,’ says Garrett as I hop out of the taxi, ‘so I’ll pick you up about six.’

He stops playing with the bracelet and grabs my hand gently.

‘You did good today, Leto,’ he says with a smile, ‘Aveline and Donnic are lucky to have such an amazing friend.’

I smile back at Garrett bashfully, and give his hand a gentle squeeze before saying goodnight.

‘Have a good sleep,’ he tells me, ‘See you tomorrow.’

The taxi leaves to take Garrett home and I wander bleary eyed though the front door, kicking off my shoes, and collapse into bed without getting undressed. I’m quite pleased with myself. I made a pretty awesome wedding cake.

I’m just drifting off to sleep, when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I pull it out half asleep and squint at the text on the too-bright screen.

It’s from Aveline. I guess she couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see her cake.

**_‘I FUCKING LOVE YOU LETO!!!’_** is all it says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. Next chapter the boys have a sleepover!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta MasterWarden41 for helping me with my undecipherable Australianisms ^_^

Garrett’s not due to pick me up for another fifteen minutes, but here I am, standing out at the front of my house like a loser.

Which is more to do with the fact that I don’t want him to see inside my house when he arrives than anything else. I’m really not at all capable of cleaning and my house is falling down around me.

I’m wearing my favourite _Starfox_ tshirt and black skinny jeans. I’m kind of ashamed of the amount of time it took me to choose what to wear. Though not owning an actual wardrobe means that my bedroom isn’t any more of a mess than normal. All my clothes were already on the floor.

At least I know I don’t have flour in my hair.

I triple checked before leaving my house, despite the fact that I didn’t work today.

I find myself checking the time on my phone for the billionth time. He still won’t be here for another ten minutes.

About thirty seconds later, I’m checking the time. Again.

I hear Garrett’s ute before I see it. It sounds worse than last time. How is the thing still running?

I’m glad that I’m waiting out the front, because he’s early. And I’m suddenly full of nerves.

I can’t help a wide smile forming as he pulls up, and I run over to the passenger side door with a little too much enthusiasm.

He’s still in his business suit, but he’s removed his tie and the top few buttons are undone.

Damn, that chest hair. The man’s a bear. A very, very sexy bear.

‘Hey,’ he says cheerfully as I chuck my bag in the back and jump in, ‘You want to get dinner first, or just order something when we get to my place?’

I don’t answer straight away because my mind is still firmly focused on his chest.

But my brain catches up and I laugh softly at myself. I really thought I was past this.

‘How about I make you dinner?’ I tell him, ‘Anything you want!’

‘Really?’ he sounds like an excited child, and I wonder how often he gets to eat food that doesn’t just come from a plastic container, ‘That would be awesome! I want you to surprise me, then. Make something that you love.’

‘You do have an oven, I’m assuming?’

As far as I know, he only knows how to heat things up in the microwave.

‘I do,’ he laughs, ‘But I’ve never used it. I’m pretty sure it works, though. It’s pretty new.’

He tells me that there is a supermarket down the road from his house. It seems the only things he has in his fridge is milk, cheese and bread.

‘Do you like fennel?’ I ask him as we pull into the carpark.

‘Is that some kind of animal?’ he asks with a confused look.

‘What?’ I laugh, ‘No! It’s a vegetable!’

‘Sounds like something small and furry to me. I’m not really big on vegetables,’ he says with a look of trepidation.

‘I’m going to have to ask you to trust me on this one,’ I tell him, ‘It’s one of my favourite vegetables. I’m going to make chicken and fennel pie. You’ll love it.’

He doesn’t look convinced. But I know I’ll win him over. I tell myself that by the time he’s had dinner, fennel will be his new favourite thing. I hope.

We grab a basket from the front of the store and I run through the ingredients we’ll need so that I don’t forget anything.

‘Okay! We need flour, butter and lard for the pastry,’ I say, ‘How many of those things do you have in your kitchen right now?’

‘None!’ he tells me proudly.

‘Good. We also need chicken, egg, fennel and parsnip,’ I continue, ‘I’m going to guess you don’t have any of those either.’

‘Not a fucking one.’

‘Then we’re going to need a bigger basket.’

\-------------

Grocery shopping with Garrett is interesting to say the least.

So far, he’s said ‘ _Ooh! I need this!_ ’ at least ten times.

Tinned pasta shaped like little dinosaurs? He needed that simply because it was called _Spaghettisaurus_. A packet of twelve individually wrapped biscuits? He needed that because it came with a _Transformers_ sticker. And best of all was the _No More Tears_ shampoo for children. He needed that because of the ridiculous cartoon dragon on the bottle.

‘ _Dragons are so badass_ ,’ I hear him murmur under his breath as he chucks it in the basket.

I can’t help grinning like an idiot. He can buy whatever the fuck he wants. He’s way too cute.

It takes some effort to drag him into the fresh produce section. Or the ‘Lettuce Department’, as he calls it. I quickly locate the fennel and hold it up to show him.

‘Oh, I’ve seen this before!’ he says, excitedly, ‘I just thought it was called fat celery.’

‘Fat celery?’

He nods.

I guess I can’t fault him on that. It does look a bit like fat celery.

So it seems he never comes into this part of the supermarket. He doesn’t even know what artichoke is. I tell myself that I’ll have to make him something with artichoke in it sometime soon.

‘What the fuck is this thing?’ he asks in a horrified voice.

He’s found something near with the citrus fruits and is holding up with a disgusted look on his face.

It is a fruit shaped like the face of Cthulhu himself.

‘It’s a Buddha’s Hand,’ I tell him, ‘I occasionally use the zest in my cakes.’

‘It looks like it has a disease,’ he says, throwing it down gracelessly.

It takes a few more vegetable explanations before we finish choosing pie ingredients. He’s getting quite the education tonight.

Ten minutes and another seven impulse basket additions later, we head to the checkout.

 

\---------------

His house is bigger than I expected. And nicer. It’s Federation style, similar to Aveline and Donnic’s place, but with a far more overgrown garden.

‘Do you live with anyone?’ I ask. This house is too big for just one person.

‘Nah,’ he says, ‘Just me and Mouse.’

‘Mouse?’

‘My dumbass dog,’ he tells me with a grin.

The moment he unlatches his gate, I hear the loudest barking I think I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s coming from the side gate, and I’m pretty sure his dog must be the size of a tiger. I’m suddenly nervous. I do like big dogs, but this one sounds scary.

‘I’m coming, you giant spaz,’ he calls out in the direction of the barking, ‘Calm down!’

Seeing the apprehension on my face he tells me, ‘Don’t worry. He’ll only lick you to death. He’s a big coward.’

Garrett opens the front door, and I notice that although he’s been in Kirkwall for almost two months, he hasn’t really made a go of the unpacking. There are several large boxes stacked up in the hallway and it makes me feel like he doesn’t really want to be living here.

‘I better let Mouse in before he breaks the door down,’ he mutters with a sigh, jogging down the hallway.

I stay where I am, nervously playing with the bag strap over my shoulder. I don’t know if I’m more nervous about the fact that I’m standing in Garrett’s house, or if it’s his giant dog at the moment.

‘Mouse! Mouse! Calm down, you stupid dog!’

Garrett is a big guy, but he’s currently being dragged down the hallway like he weighs nothing by the biggest dog I have ever seen. He’s holding on tightly to the dog’s collar, and I can see the effort he’s making to hold him back.

So this is how I die.

Mouse bounds up to me, with his big tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

‘Good boy,’ I say nervously, ‘Sit. Be still.’

He does. He sits in front of he with his head cocked to one side. I let out a breath that I wasn’t aware I was holding. Only then does Garrett release his hold on the dog’s collar.

He’s actually a very cute dog.

‘He can understand everything you say to him,’ Garrett tells me, ‘He’s a super special breed.’

I kneel down in front of Mouse and scratch him behind the ear, which he thinks is the best thing ever. His stumpy tail is wagging like mad.

‘What breed is he?’ I ask.

‘He’s a Mabari War Hound,’ says Garret, proudly.

I narrow my eyes at him, and he grins wickedly at me.

‘That’s not a real breed,’ I say accusingly, ‘You just made that up.’

‘Yeah,’ he laughs, ‘He’s just a big mutt. But Mabari War Hound sounds so much more awesome.’

I decide that I like Mouse a lot. He runs off and fetches his fluffy, squeaky pig toy and brings it too me proudly. It’s filthy and covered in slobber, and I really don’t want to touch it.

He drops it at my feet and looks up hopefully, one paw raised and ready to fetch.

‘You can just kick it,’ Garret tells me, ‘I don’t like touching Ser Bacon Bits either.’

‘Ser Bacon Bits?’ I ask, with a raised eyebrow,

‘Bethany got it for him for Christmas last year,’ he informs me, ‘And she tells me that Mouse came up with the name himself. He’s a clever boy, my dog.’

In the end I have to kick Ser Bacon Bits eleven times before Mouse is satisfied. He then collects his toy and trots off into what I assume is the lounge room.

‘I really need to get out of these clothes immediately,’ Garrett mutters, ‘These pants are way too tight for me. I’m pretty sure they’ve shrunk because I don’t know how to use the washing machine properly.’

This man needs his mum. Badly.

We carry the groceries into the kitchen and I start arranging ingredients on the counter.

‘I can get started on dinner while you have a shower and get changed,’ I tell Garrett, ‘It’ll take a while to do the dough because it needs to rest in the fridge for a bit, so, sorry if you’re really hungry.’

‘That’s okay!’ he grins, ‘I can eat these, um, I think they’re Indonesian? Sugar, green, ah… biscuit things? I don’t know what they are actually. But they have a monkey in overalls on the packet so I had to get them.’

I can’t help smiling. Grocery shopping with Garrett is defiantly my new favourite thing.

I’m just putting the dough in the fridge when he returns from his shower. He sidles up to me and stands slightly closer than is really necessary. Not that I’m complaining.

I can’t help staring at him for a bit longer than I should. He’s wearing a _Lothering Dragons Cricket Club_ tshirt that’s slightly too small for him and a pair of loose track pants. His hair and beard are still damp. And he smells _amazing_. Like warm skin and sweet pea.

‘You smell nice,’ I hear myself saying, and I can feel my face go pink.

‘My mum’s into making fancy bath gels and soaps,’ he laughs, ‘She sends me a box every fucking week, so I just use tons of it.’

I force myself to turn my attention back to the vegetables I’m preparing. I’m going to make the best damn pie Garrett’s ever eaten.

‘Anything I can do to help?’ he asks.

‘Hmm, you could chop the parsnip,’ I say, ‘That’s pretty hard to mess up.’

Chopping parsnip is hard to mess up. But somehow, he manages to mess it up. The result looks like he just closed his eyes and slammed the knife repeatedly into the chopping board, hoping to hit something. Which he didn’t. The look of concentration on his face as he carefully tried to cut nice, even sized pieces was adorable. But we’ve somehow ended up with parsnip that looks like it was run over by a lawnmower.

‘I’ve never chopped vegetables before,’ he says meekly, ‘Did I do okay?’

‘Very nice!’ I tell him with a grin, ‘You have admirable chopping skills.’

‘I get the feeling you’re not being entirely honest about that,’ he says, ‘But I will take the compliment as a freebie.’

Garrett starts eating his weird Indonesian snack while I finish preparing the pie filling.

‘How are your mystery biscuits?’ I ask him, ‘Are they everything you hoped they would be?’

‘It’s like there’s a party in my mouth, but sugar was the only one invited,’ he says with a smile, holding out the packet towards me, ‘Want one?’

‘No thank you,’ I chuckle, ‘I don’t fancy dying from hyperglycaemia the night before my best friend’s wedding.’

‘Oh yeah,’ he says sheepishly, ‘Sorry.’

I give him a friendly shoulder bump and get back to my pie, and he watches me with interest.

‘I’m banned from the kitchen at home when mum is cooking,’ he says innocently, ‘I once tried to help by heating up the oven for her. I turned on the grill instead and it caught fire. The smoke stung my eyes like you would not believe!’

I snort and cover my mouth to cover my laughter. He looks a little hurt, but his laughter soon joins mine.

‘Can I trust you to pre-heat the oven for me tonight?’ I ask, ‘Perhaps you can redeem yourself.’

With a look of determination, he marches over to his oven.

‘Tell me what to do!’ he says with a very serious look, ‘And watch me pre-heat this oven like a fucking boss!’

I join him by the oven. It’s new and fancy, and I’m a little jealous.

‘See this dial here?’ I ask, pointing to the dial that helpfully says ‘ _Oven’_.

He nods.

‘Turn it until it points to 200.’

He does as a show him.

‘There,’ I grin, ‘You just pre-heated an oven.’

This is a great day for Garrett. I can see he’s quite proud of himself.

I finish my preparations and he starts eating cheese out of the fridge. I’m starting to worry that he won’t be hungry by the time I’m finished cooking.

But he is, and he pretty much eats the entire pie himself.

And we’re now sitting on the sofa watching _Plebs_ , which is a show it turns out we both have a mutual love for.

‘What did you think of the fennel?’ I ask him.

‘Oh! So good! I’m so full!’ he groans, rubbing his belly, ‘How have I never had fennel before? You know, I think it grows by the creek line at home. I should tell my mum to cook with it.’

‘It’s classified as a weed, you know,’ I say, ‘You’d be doing the local ecosystem a favour by eating it.’

‘Always happy to help the environment by eating things,’ he laughs.

I love the sound of Garrett’s laugh. I’m glad that he loves _Plebs_ as much as I do, because he’s laughing no stop.

Mouse wanders into the room and looks longingly at the sofa we are occupying.

‘No!’ says Garrett sternly, ‘You’re too big, there’s no room!’

Mouse cocks his head to the side and whines pitifully. He starts to edge closer to us, unable to keep his stumpy tail from wagging.

‘Don’t look at me like that!’ Garrett sighs, ‘I said there’s no room for a puppy!’

I feel awful for Mouse. This is his house after all. If a dog could shed tears, he’d being doing so right now. Big, fat guilt inducing tears.

Garrett must notice my expression, because he laughs and shakes his head at me.

‘Don’t let him guilt you, Leto,’ he chuckles, ‘He’s okay on the floor.’

Mouse inches closer to the sofa, and manages to get a paw up on the cushions. He’s refusing to make eye contact. It’s as if he thinks if he moves slowly enough, we won’t notice him.

The whining increases.

‘Fine!’ cries Garrett, throwing up his hands in defeat, ‘Be a stupid dog! Be a big, stinky, stupid dog with no brain!’

I start to move closer to Garrett to make room for Mouse.

‘Come ‘ere,’ Garrett says, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling my over so that I’m against his side, ‘Give the stupid dog his space. Since he’s KING OF THE FUCKING SOFA.’

Garrett narrows his eyes at Mouse, who just wags his stumpy tail madly.

‘Who’s a bad dog?’ he asks in a voice that just makes Mouse wag his tail more, ‘Who’s a stupid dogdog?’

Mouse jumps onto the sofa with such enthusiasm that the whole thing is pushed back a few centimetres.

Garrett’s arm is still tightly around my waist, and I allow myself to relax into his side slightly. I think his body may have been designed especially for me to snuggle against, since I seem to fit perfectly.

I casually reach over and grab a cushion from near Mouse’s face and place it on my lap.

‘He was dangerously close to drooling on that,’ I say.

He was, but that’s not why I grabbed it.

I’m getting far, far too comfortable snuggled up with Garrett. He’s rubbing my back now.

I’m pretty sure that I shudder in pleasure.

By the time the episode of _Plebs_ is over, Mouse is snoring loudly, laying on his back with one front paw in the air.

And Garrett has his hand in my hair, running his fingers through it and scratching my scalp. I might actually die from pleasure. If I was capable of purring, I would be doing so right now.

‘We should go to bed,’ Garrett murmurs softly.

I think my heart actually stops for a moment.

‘What?’

He laughs wearily, patting my head.

‘We have to get up early,’ he tells me, ‘Tomorrow is an important day.’

I’m not at all ready to sleep. Sleep is something that usually comes to me between three and five in the morning. My body clock is so badly fucked.

But I feel bad for Garrett, who looks exhausted, so I agree that it’s bed time.

He shows me to the spare room, which has only a double bed and a number of yet to be unpacked boxes.

‘So, I’ll wake you at 6:15,’ he tells me, ‘Bela has warned me you get angry in the morning. Will I be safe?’

Oh, do I ever get angry in the morning.

‘If I swear at you,’ I say, ‘Don’t take it personally.’

He pulls me into a hug.

‘Got it. Have a good sleep.’

I settle myself into the bed as he leaves the room.

I hear him walk into something in the hallway and swear loudly, before laughing at himself.

Hours after I hear his bedroom door close, I’m still wide awake and staring at the ceiling. I’m going to be tired tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I appreciate all the comments and kudos XD I hope everyone is happy with the pacing, as it's pretty slow. But I'm having fun writing it and don't want to get to the juicy bits too quickly XD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to my beta MasterWarden41 for helping me out with this chapter XD

‘Leto?’ I hear Garrett say softly, ‘Leto, it’s 6:15. We need to leave soon.’

Turn the fucking light off! Seriously!

‘Fuck off…’ I mumble angrily.

‘Come on, mate,’ he sighs, ‘I brought you coffee.’

‘Put it next to the bed and give me five more minutes.’

I feel him sit on the side of the bed.

‘You really aren’t a morning person,’ I can hear the amusement in his voice, ‘Are you?’

We can’t all be farm boys who can leap out of bed at the crack of dawn.

I force myself to sit up and rub my eyes. It’s too bright and I hate everything. Literally everything. The entire universe can go to hell.

He smells like he just got out of the shower. Which means he’s been up for a while. How does he look so damn awake?

‘I’m going to put everything in the car and then I’ll be back,’ he tells me, ‘You better be up when I get back, or I’ll tickle you.’

The minute he leaves the room, I collapse back into the pillows and pull the quilt over my head. I really only need two more minutes sleep. Just two more minutes, and I’ll be fine.

I lay in my nest of covers, consciously counting down the seconds I can stay in bed until he returns.

‘Leto! What the fuck, man!’ I hear him cry as he walks back into the room.

I don’t know what he expected. I’m not getting up without a fight.

‘One more minute!’ I beg him from my blanket cave, ‘Just let me have one more minute, Garrett. Please.’

‘Nope and nope,’ he laughs, climbing onto the bed. I can feel him crawling over to me, ‘Today’s an important day. No more sleeping!’

‘It won’t matter if we’re a little bit late,’ I groan. It _so_ will.

‘I’m counting to three,’ he says, ‘Then I’m going to tickle you.’

The fight is on.

‘No…’ I moan pathetically.

‘One…’

I pull the covers tighter over my head. I’m going to milk every damn second I can before I have to open my eyes.

‘Two…’

He doesn’t actually make it to three, he just wrenches the quilt off of me and dives in with his evil fingers. I actually hate him for a moment. If there’s one thing I hate more than waking up early, it’s being tickled.

‘Okay! Okay!’ I squeal, thrashing and kicking madly. If I wasn’t awake before, I certainly am now.

I actually just squealed. Like a twelve year old girl. I’ve never squealed in my life. Well, not until now.

So now, I’m up. I’m not happy about it, but I’m up.

‘You are so lucky you didn’t get punched in the face,’ I scowl, ‘I’m not forgiving you for that. You said I had until three.’

He grins at me.

‘If I gave you until three, I might have missed my chance to tickle you.’

He looks so very, very pleased with himself. Bastard.

‘Don’t do that again,’ I tell him angrily, and he pokes his tongue out at me.

I get dressed in about four seconds. Years of oversleeping has forced me to become very good at speedy dressing.

I’m about to shove my phone in my pocket, when I see I have a text from Isabela.

‘ ** _ARE YOU AWAKE YET FUCKHEAD.’_**

She sent it forty-five minutes ago.

Bleary eyed, I attempt to respond.

**_‘were leBing now.’_ **

Close enough.

**_‘did he wake you with BJ ;)’_** she texts back almost immediately.

Well, I’m not even going to respond to that.

I climb into the ute clumsily, and Garrett starts the engine after several attempts.

‘Are you ready to go to a fucking wedding?’ he yells excitedly.

I yawn and shake my head.

‘Nah.’

The sun’s only just coming up. I lean back and close my eyes. Maybe I can sleep in the car.

 

\--------------

 

We’ve only been driving for about fifteen minutes when I’m jolted out of my uncomfortable half sleep by Garrett pulling into a service station.

‘Gotta make a quick stop at the servo,’ he tells me, ‘Want anything?’

I shake my head, rubbing my aching eyes.

Garrett jumps out to fill the ute with fuel.

I pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders and grouse about the fact that I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep properly in the ute. I pull my legs onto the seat and against my chest, attempting to rest my head on my knees.

Nope. That’s not comfortable at all, but it’s better than nothing.

Garrett jumps back into the ute and holds something warm towards me.

‘Here,’ he says, ‘I thought you could use another coffee.’

I grasp the warm paper cup in my hands appreciatively, smiling thankfully at Garrett.

‘What did you get yourself?’ I ask, looking at the jar in his hand, ‘Is that… peanut butter?’

He laughs and nods.

‘I was still hungry,’ he says with a grin.

‘How are you going to eat it in the car?’

He proudly holds up a plastic spoon.

‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ I groan.

I watch with a mixture of disgust and curiosity as he removes the lid and actually scoops peanut butter right out of the jar. He licks it right off the spoon.

‘Garrett,’ I sigh, ‘That is vile.’

‘No! It’s really good! Have some,’ he holds the spoon towards me, and I shake my head.

Though I momentarily consider taking the spoon simply because it’s been in Garrett’s mouth. But I’m not that pathetic.

‘I’m good,’ I laugh, ‘I’ll stick with my coffee, thanks.’

‘Whatever,’ he says, putting another spoonful in his mouth, ‘Your loss.’

‘Your diet is pitiful,’ I say, ‘What on earth was that thing you made for breakfast?’

Whatever it was he was eating this morning when we got in the car is not something I could classify as food.

‘A fried egg, cheese and potato chip toastie,’ he tells me proudly, ‘I have a palette that has been carefully refined by years of laziness.’

We’re back on the road now, and I scowl at all the early morning joggers and dog walkers who are all so fucking awake.

It’s like they’re making a big show of their ability to be awake before seven on a Saturday morning. What a bunch of freaks.

‘Look at Miss Expensive Sports Shoes with her fucking pompom dog,’ I spit angrily, ‘What the hell is she doing up so early? She got up just because she wanted to. Bitch.’

‘Hey!’ chuckles Garrett, ‘I usually get up early to walk Mouse on a Saturday, you know!’

‘Weirdo,’ I mutter, taking a big sip of my coffee. Which is doing nothing. Caffeine is failing me hard this morning.

Garrett keeps me entertained with stories about his family as we drive. It’s the only thing stopping me from falling asleep. And by ‘ _entertaining stories about his family’_ , what I really mean is ‘ _stories of horrible things Garrett did to his younger brother and got away with’_.

‘We shared a room until I was fifteen,’ he tells me, ‘The sound of him mumbling in his sleep at night used to drive me nuts. So I’d throw shoes at him. He’d wake up in the morning covered in my muddy boots. My record was nine shoes. He only woke up if I hit him in the head.’

Well, that’s a horrible thing for a big brother to do. But sadly quite funny, and it makes me chuckle.

‘One of my favourite things to do was catch yabbies from the creek and put them in his bed,’ he laughs.

‘You are a hideous person,’ I tell him with a grin.

He smiles proudly at me.

‘I take my job as a big brother very seriously,’ he says, ‘It was my duty to be a jerk.’

He may be telling me awful stories about torturing his younger brother, but I love the sound of his voice. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes with a smile.

‘Sleepy?’ he asks me.

I nod and rub my eyes.

‘Want me to shut up so you can have a nap?’

I shake my head.

‘No,’ I murmur, ‘I like the sound of your voice.’

Well. That sounded better in my head.

He laughs at me.

‘Then I shall regale you with further tales of the Hawke family adventures!’ he tells me proudly.

And he does. So many stories. I could listen to him talk all day.

I’m not completely infatuated with this man. I’m not.

I’m not even sure how long we’ve been driving.

The gardens are getting bigger, the houses further apart. We’re nearly free of the city.

We’re passing small farms now. It’s all so green.

‘Is this what Lothering’s like?’ I ask.

‘Nah,’ Garrett is trying to simultaneously check the google maps and not drive off the road, ‘Lothering is way more brown than this. It’s like, dead brown grass everywhere.’

I eventually decide to confiscate Garrett’s phone when he ends up on the wrong side of the road.

According to google maps, we’re still thirty minutes away from the estate where Aveline and Donnic’s wedding is to be held. We should only be a few minutes late. Not bad considering how long it took me to get out of bed.

It helps that Garrett has been consistently driving 20kmph above the speed limit.

‘How you holding up there?’ Garrett asks when I begin to shift uncomfortably in my seat.

‘I’m not used to long car rides,’ I groan, ‘My butt hurts.’

‘Do you need me to pull over for a bit?’ he asks.

I shake my head and stretch my legs out as far as I can in front of me.

Garrett reaches over and pats my thigh.

‘Not long now. You’ll be able to stretch your legs properly soon.’

It’s another twenty minutes before we reach the estate.

I only realise that Garrett’s hand remained on my leg when he removes it to change gears as we slow down.

I see a huge pair of gates looming in not far in the distance, at the end of a tree lined road.

Sundermount Estate.

This place is huge. And fancy. But mostly huge.

‘This place must have cost a fortune to hire!’ says Garrett, seemingly as awestruck at the place as I am, ‘I hope the marriage lasts after the amount of money they’ve spent.’

‘Garrett!’ I groan, ‘That’s a horrible thing to say!’

He giggles to himself quietly as we drive past the gates. I can see Sebastian’s car up ahead. And there’s Anders, seemingly berating an estate employee about the resident peacock.

Donnic is rushing over to try and calm the situation when we pull up.

‘You can’t do that to an animal!’ Anders is yelling at the poor girl, ‘It’s an act of oppression!’

Garrett and I walk over the join Donnic, who is trying in vain to get Anders to calm down.

‘I’m sorry sir,’ the unfortunate girl is clearly frustrated, ‘The peacock belongs to Sundermount Estate, and we have to band his leg in case he wanders off. It’s just a plastic ring. It doesn’t hurt him.’

‘Leg banding is wrong!’ cries Anders, ‘And how can you say he belongs to the estate? Animals should not belong to anybody! They belong to themselves, no one else.’

Donnic grabs Anders arm and guides him away,

‘This isn’t over!’ Anders calls back to the girl, who is making a hasty retreat.

‘Come on, buddy,’ Donnic sighs, ‘Don’t be a freak. Not today.’

‘I wrote a manifesto on leg banding within the poultry industry,’ Anders says angrily, shaking his arm free, ‘I know what I’m talking about.’

Garrett wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind and buries his face in my hair, trying to stifle his laughter.

‘What a nutbag,’ he chuckles.

Surprisingly, Anders is yet to mention the fact that MacDuff is running around the carpark dressed in a little black coat and a bow tie.

Merrill’s doing, no doubt.

‘Are the girls here?’ I ask Donnic once he’s finished sorting Anders out.

‘They got here at six,’ he tells me, ‘Apparently, hair and make-up is a major operation. Aveline doesn’t really wear make-up. I’m… interested in seeing the result.’

I can’t imagine Aveline in make-up myself. War paint, maybe. But not make-up.

‘They’ve got the rooms on the first floor to get ready in,’ he tells me, as we begin to walk towards the imposing building, ‘I’ve been told we have to take the side stairs, I’m not allowed to see anything. Tradition.’

‘What happens if you see something?’ I ask.

‘I think the world will end,’ he laughs, ‘I don’t want the world to end on my wedding day.’

I must admit, though I’ve never really cared about weddings before, I am starting to feel a small pang of excitement about today.

Knowing how much Aveline and Donnic love each other, and how well suited they are to one another, is actually giving me a proper case of the feels.

‘There are two guest bedrooms to get ready in,’ Donnic continues, ‘You get to have one all to yourself, since to hold the title of Best Man. The other three will be in one down the hall. I’ll be very disappointed if I come in and find you sleeping, Leto.’

‘I’m jacked up on caffeine now,’ I reassure him, ‘I’ll be fine.’

Donnic shows us to our rooms and I’m actually tempted by the bed. It’s massive and covered in cushions. And soft. I could have a nap and no one would know.

Okay, calm down, Leto.

Just focus on getting ready.

I’m half way dressed when I hear a knock at the door.

‘Leto!’ I hear Garrett, somehow sounding both amused and annoyed at the same time, ‘I don’t care if you’re naked! I’m coming in!’

Before I have a chance to respond, he storms into the room in nothing but his shirt and boxers. Dumping the rest of his suit on the bed, and, I note with amusement, an almost empty jar of peanut butter, he rubs both hands over his face roughly and sighs.

‘Did you know, one hundred and seventy four sheep died due to overcrowding in one month during live export to Singapore?’ he says dramatically, grabbing my shoulders.

‘Um… No?’

Letting go of me, he collapses face first onto the bed with a groan, rolling onto his side and staring at me with a pleading expression.

‘Mind if finish getting ready in here?’ he practically begs, ‘Anders is giving me hella attitude about sheep, man.’

For once in my life, I’m actually thankful to Anders for something. Garrett’s lying on a bed in front of me with no pants on.

I try my best to act casual.

‘Sure,’ I tell him, ‘I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a room with Anders either.’

He sits up on the bed and starts pulling his pants on, and I force myself to turn away and finish dressing.

As I fumble with my tie, I hear him groan from behind me.

‘Oh… shit.’

_‘Oh shit_ ’ is not something I need to hear. Not today. Nothing is allowed to go wrong today.

I turn around apprehensively. He’s standing by the bed, dressed in his shirt and pants. But there is no way in hell he’s doing those pants done up. There is _no_ way.

‘Garrett, oh no…’ I groan, ‘That’s pretty bad.’

He looks pretty ashamed of himself. He’s at least three centimetres away from getting the fly done up.

‘Aveline is going to be pissed,’ he sighs, ‘I tried these on three weeks ago, and they fit then.’

I just stand and stare at him unhelpfully.

That’s me. I’m a helper. I’ve got all the solutions.

‘This,’ he says, beginning to look mildly amused, ‘Is your fault, Leto.’

‘How is it my fault?’ I ask, willing the corners of my mouth not to turn up, ‘Exactly?’

‘You and your damn cakes,’ he sighs, ‘I had a feeling that this was going to happen.’

‘I didn’t force feed you those cakes,’ I smirk, ‘And need I remind you that you just finished eating an entire jar of peanut butter with a spoon?’

He pouts at me, but his face quickly transforms into a giant, bashful grin.

‘It was properly delicious.’

‘Lie back on the bed,’ I tell him, ‘We’ll use gravity to our advantage.’

Trust Garrett to find the humour in any situation. He’s laughing like mad, and it’s catching. I’m still scared of how Aveline will react if we can’t get Garrett into his pants, but the whole situation is hilarious right now.

He falls back onto the bed and allows me to straddle him. If I wasn’t so scared of Aveline’s reaction to the pants disaster, I’d find the whole situation embarrassingly arousing.

‘Aveline is going to kill you if we can’t get these done up,’ I tell him sharply, ‘Suck your belly in.’

‘I am!’ he’s crying with laugher.

No amount of force is going to allow me to zip this fly up. This is a fucking disaster.

‘Stop laughing!’ I shouldn’t be telling him not to laugh, since I’m laughing so hard myself, ‘Every time you laugh, your tummy sticks out and it’s not helping!’

He can’t even answer me. He laughing so hard that he’s crying. This is the least funny thing that could have happened this morning.

Yet, here we are, laughing like idiots.

‘This is a hopeless battle, Leto,’ he sighs through his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes, ‘I think we need to admit defeat.’

Our laughter is starting to die down now, and I’m still here, sitting on his legs.

We just stare at each other with ‘ _What the fuck are we going to do?_ ’ looks on our faces.

He reaches out and strokes my wrist, playing with my red bracelet. Which Aveline asked me not to wear. And which I refused to take off.

I gasp as he reaches up, placing his hands on my hips.

‘Look at this tiny little waist,’ he murmurs, ‘You’re so small. I feel massive compared to you.’

His hands move up my sides, and the world starts to spin.

My breathing has become shallow as I watch his hands rest on my waist, his thumbs gently stroking my ribs.

‘Look at me,’ he breathes.

The moment our eyes meet, I realise I’m fucked. I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want Garrett right now.

‘You’re eyes,’ he whispers, ‘They’re so beautiful.’

I let out a yelp of surprise when he reaches up and fists his hand into my hair at the base of my neck, and roughly pulls me down so our faces are almost touching.

I want to laugh and scream and cry all at the same time.

This isn’t happening.

Our faces are so close now.

Lips just millimetres apart, and I can feel his warm breath on my face.

We stay like this for seconds, or is it hours? I can’t tell.

I start to tremble. I can’t bear this.

He finally breaks the silence.

‘Kiss me,’ he moans.

I do. And it’s amazing.

My mind goes blank. All I can hear is my heart thumping in my chest.

I’m kissing him.

I’m kissing Garrett.

He eases his tongue into my mouth, and I moan.

This is too good.

He tastes like peanut butter, and his beard is tickling my face.

He grabs my ass with his free hand, pulling me down so our bodies are touching completely.

My body on his. I feel my groin start to stir.

I’m dying. I’m actually going to die from pleasure.

And I’m now embarrassingly hard. My lack of self control is such that I begin to rock my hips against his body.

I hear him chuckle into my mouth.

‘Sorry…’ I mumble.

‘S’okay, you idiot,’ he moans, moving down to bite my neck, ‘I believe I have one to match.’

Oh my god, he actually does.

And much like the rest of him, it’s fucking huge.

Here we are, half dressed for our best friend’s wedding, which is less than an hour away. And we’re lying on the bed dry humping like a pair of horny teenagers.

‘No… no marks, Garrett,’ I choke out as he sucks on my neck, ‘Aveline will kill us…’

‘Let her,’ he says breathlessly, ‘I really don’t care. I’ve wanted this for so long.’

‘Garrett…’ I moan, furiously grinding myself into his body, ‘I need you…’

I recapture his mouth, biting his lip with such fierceness that I’m sure I’ve drawn blood.

Nothing else exists. It’s just me and him. And our bodies pressed together. And…

The door opening with a bang.

‘What,’ splutters a very pale faced Sebastian, ‘are you two doing?’

Double shit. Go away, you Scottish prick.

I sit up a little too fast, and my head spins. I guess all the blood in my body is otherwise occupied.

‘Disaster!’ I yelp, ‘Ah, a pants… disaster!’

I can feel Garrett shaking with laugher beneath me, and I’m painfully aware that we are both still very hard. And he still has his hand firmly on my ass.

‘I’m a fatass, Seb,’ chuckles a slightly breathless Garrett, patting his belly, ‘I can’t get my pants done up. Leto’s helping me. Nothing suspicious.’

‘Of course not,’ Sebastian says, shaking his head, ‘Shall I see if I can find a solution, and leave you two to sort yourselves out?’

Garrett laughs loudly and gives my ass a gentle squeeze.

‘Sort ourselves out?’

‘Okay, that sounded wrong,’ Sebastian sighs, though I feel that he probably finds the whole situation more amusing than he’s letting on, ‘Just, get ready. I’ll see if I can find a safety pin or something. Your jacket should cover enough for that to work. The Lord can see you, you know.’

‘Thanks, Sebastian!’ Garrett grins, ‘Also, thanks for knocking!’

‘I did knock. Loudly, in fact,’ Sebastian says with a chuckle, ‘But you two were clearly too busy with whatever it was you were doing to hear me.’

‘Weddings really do bring people together, don’t they?’ He smirks, as he turns to leave.

The minute Sebastian is out the door, Garrett grabs me tightly around the waist and pulls me back down onto the bed. We dissolve into hysterical laughter.

I’ve never been one for hysterical laughter. Not until I met Garrett.

This has been an interesting morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% happy with this chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys it! It took me ages to update because I needed new glasses and they took nearly 4 weeks to be ready :(

My lack of sleep is finally catching up with me.

I can barely keep my eyes open, and we are now well into the second hour of photographs.

I thought weddings were about love and commitment. But it seems that they are in fact, just about photographs. A lot of them.

It’s not even my damn wedding. Why do I have to be in so many photos?

I’m being posed with Isabela, and news travels fast in my circle of friends, it seems.

I can’t escape. So I’ll just have to put up with her childish questions.

‘Is he a good kisser?’ she smirks.

I feel my face turn pink.

‘Fine,’ I say flatly, refusing to meet her eyes, ‘He’s fine.’

I have my hands on her hips, and hers are on my shoulders. She smirks at me.

‘Just fine?’

‘Better than fine, okay?’ I’m aware that Garrett is looking in our direction. He knows _exactly_ what we’re talking about, ‘It was… fucking awesome. Happy?’

‘Oh, so happy!’ she giggles, ‘So is he your boyfriend now?’

‘What are you, twelve?’ I groan, ‘We kissed. It was good. Other than that, I don’t know!’

She pulls me into a hug, kissing me on the temple. This earns us a sigh from the photographer, as he repositions us into the same stupid pose we held a minute ago.

‘I have to say, I’m rather jealous of you Leto,’ she whispers with a grin, ‘I would totally bang him!’

‘I’m sure you would,’ I sigh, ‘You’d bang anyone.’

She gives me a wounded look and pouts at me. That was a low blow, I guess.

‘I have standards, Leto,’ she mutters, ‘ _You_ know that.’

‘Drop it,’ I growl, glaring at her.

The photographer is getting annoyed at us. Good. I want him to feel as pissed off as I am right now.

‘Best Man!’ he sighs, ‘Smile!’

Because, no, I don’t actually have a name.

I’m fairly sure my fake smile looks worse than my scowl, but I plaster it on anyway. Let’s just get this over with so we can all get drunk.

A few photos later, we are being moved again.

I’ve just been handed a larger white letter R. We all get to spell out the words ‘ _Just Married’_. Fantastic. And now I have to hold it above my head and look excited. I don’t do excited.

I hold the letter up, as instructed. I give my best half arsed smile. That’s all the photographer is getting from me. I don’t think Aveline and Donnic would actually recognise me if I was genuinely excited.

Aveline catches my eye and mouths ‘ _I’m sorry’_. She looks ready to murder someone. I feel like slightly less of an arsehole now that I know that the bride is as over this as I am. I’ve been watching the enthusiasm waning in everyone’s eyes for the last hour.

Thankfully, the bridal party only have to suffer through another ten minutes of this ridiculousness.

The photographer then grabs the very tired pair of newlyweds for their ‘ _couple’_ photos.

A larger pair of arms wrap around my shoulders and a dark beard is pressed against my face.

‘Hey you,’ Garrett whispers, ‘We’re free now, at least, until the reception.’

Isabela is looking at me, dramatically miming a blow job. I hate my friends.

‘Did you, ah, want to go for a walk?’ I ask nervously, rubbing the back of my neck as I feel the heat in my face rising, ‘Or something?’

‘I like the sound of the ‘ _or something’_ bit _,’_ he chuckles, taking my hand and leading me away from the group.

I follow him down towards the vineyard. The sun is out but the vines are still damp from rain yesterday, causing the leaves to glisten. Well, this is all very fucking romantic. How long will it be before I ruin it by saying something stupid, I wonder?

Before I have the chance to worry anymore, Garrett grabs me in his huge arms and pulls me in for a firm kiss.

This I can deal with. This is good.

I reach up and run my hands though his dark hair.

How does his hair always look so dishevelled but feel so soft?

Screw the reception. I’d rather spend the rest of the day doing this.

‘What are we doing?’ I smirk, our lips still pressed together.

‘We’re kissing, you gorgeous boy,’ he replies with a chuckle, running his hands down my back and grabbing my ass, pulling me into his body firmly.

‘Garrett?’ I moan, closing my eyes as he moves down to kiss my neck, ‘Do you like me?’

The stupid words echo in my head. What a juvenile thing to ask.

He pulls back and grins at me.

‘That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard you say,’ he chuckles.

I feel my face flush. I feel like an awkward teenager and I’m aware that I’m staring at him with wide eyes, biting my lip like an idiot.

‘You,’ he says softly, cupping my face, ‘Are the sweetest, most adorable guy I have ever met. I like you, Leto. I like you a lot.’

His eyes are so soft, so beautiful. My heart is fluttering in my chest and I feel like I can’t breathe. Or don’t want to. Maybe I don’t need to.

I can feel my face turn pink, and I close my eyes. He pulls me close, brushing his lips across my forehead.

I’m going to die.

He leans down do place a gentle kiss on my jaw. I giggle and squirm as his beard tickles my neck.

‘STOP FUCKING!’

Isabela!

What is it with kissing and interruptions today? This is ridiculous.

‘I’ve been sent to collect you two,’ she laughs, ‘Put your dicks away and hurry up. The reception’s about to start.’

‘We were just kissing,’ sighs Garrett, ‘We hadn’t gotten any further than that. _Yet_.’

Isabela raises an eyebrow and places her hands on her hips.

‘Perhaps I should have waited another ten minutes before I can to collect you then,’ she smirks.

Garrett reaches down and grabs my hand, threading his fingers though mine and giving my hand a firm squeeze.

‘Shall we?’ he asks.

I sigh and give a small nod, before reluctantly allowing Isabela to lead us back to the reception.

 

\-----------------

 

Just how long do wedding receptions have to drag on for?

My head is pounding. Right behind my eyes.

The noise in this place!

‘ _Love Shack’_ is blaring loudly. Do you know what song I hate more than anything?

Yeah. I stopped enjoying myself hours ago.

‘Don’t you dare think of bailing, Leto,’ says Isabela, leaning over my shoulder, ‘You have to stay until Aveline and Donnic leave.’

So I guess I must look very enthusiastic then.

‘I can’t go anywhere even if I wanted to,’ I reply, ‘I’m going home with Garrett.’

‘Oh really?’ she grins.

Rubbing my eyes, I lean back in my chair. I’m too tired for this.

‘I’ve been awake since six am, Isabela,’ I snap, ‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘And I’ve been up since four thirty!’ she laughs, ‘I have plenty of energy! You can be a grumpy prick sometimes, you know.’

She pours me a glass of wine while I watch Garrett involved in an intense arm wrestling match with Aveline across the room. She’s beating him easily. And it appears his loser prize is being made to wear Aveline’s veil.

He looks quite cute in it, but the sight fails to lift my mood.

He catches my eye, and breaks away from the rest of the group.

I turn towards Isabela, but she’s gone. Run off to chat up some guy in the corner of the room it seems.

I’m not in the mood for talking. Not to Garrett, not to anyone. But I force a smile, and place my glass back onto the table.

‘We’ll get going in a bit,’ Garrett tells me, ‘Don’t drink any more or you’ll feel rotten tomorrow.’

His comment makes my bad mood flare even stronger. I can drink as much as I damn well please.

‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ I growl.

And immediately regret it as I see his face fall. I didn’t mean to growl at him. It’s just been a long day.

‘I’m sorry, Leto,’ he says, ‘I’m just looking out for you.’

I’m not a fucking child.

‘Don’t,’ I spit, ‘I can take care of myself.’

He looks like he’s about to say something, but I guess the scowl on my face changes his mind. I just want to be left alone.

‘Okay,’ he sighs, ‘Let me just grab some things, and we’ll get going as soon as Aveline and Donnic head off. I can see you’re tired.’

He runs his hand through his hair and looks at me for a moment longer. I try to turn my angry face off, but I just can’t do it. I don’t want to be angry. Not today. I kissed him today. It was the greatest day ever.

And here I am, in a foul mood, snapping at everybody.

I watch him walk away looking slightly dejected and I feel awful.

I didn’t mean to snap! Come back!

My brain tells me I’d feel better if I smashed something, but that’s probably not appropriate right now.

This is the grumpiest I’ve been in a long time.

I feel a pair of hands grab my shoulders from behind.

‘What did you say to Garrett?’

Isabela swoops in front of me. And she looks mad. And fairly drunk.

‘I’m in an awful mood,’ I sigh, anger suddenly replaced with gloominess, ‘I may have snapped. I didn’t mean to. And yes, I feel bad.’

‘He looks like you just told him to go fuck himself,’ she says, shaking her head, ‘You and your broodiness, honestly.’

‘I do not brood.’ I _so_ do.

‘You’ve been all about this guy for over a month,’ she continues, reaching up and smacking the back of my head, ‘You finally get some action, and now you’re being a right shit head.’

‘Isabela, I have a thumping headache. I’m tried as hell. I can’t help it if I’m a bit irritable.’

She looks annoyed at me. I guess sitting around like a grumpy bastard is not the thing to do at wedding receptions.

‘You’re more than a bit irritable,’ she sighs, ‘How much have you had to drink?’

‘Not much.’

‘How much have you had to eat?’ she demands.

‘Enough,’ I groan, ‘Don’t baby me.’

‘Well, Aveline and Donnic are about to leave,’ she says, rising to her feet, ‘Can you put on your happy face long enough to wish them a happy honeymoon?’

‘I can try.’

I get to my feet, feeling a bit unsteady. I’m sure I’ve only had a couple of drinks. I’m absolutely sure of it.

‘Not much to drink, my arse,’ mutters Isabela, putting her arm around my waist.

Aveline rushes over as she sees us approaching. I stumble slightly as she pulls me into a hug.

‘Oh dear, Leto!’ she gasps, ‘Are you alright?’

‘I might be a little pissed,’ I say, ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry. Thank you, Leto. For the beautiful cake. For everything.’

‘Have fun in… where are you going?’

‘What?’

‘I… forgot. Where you’re going,’’ I blink hard and shake my head, trying to straighten my thoughts which appear to be somewhere else in my head, somewhere I can’t quite reach them, ‘For your… honeymoon.’

‘Really?’ she lets out shocked laugh, and I nod feebly, ‘France. Just how much have you had to drink?’

‘I’m not actually sure anymore.’

‘Good luck with your hangover, then,’ she laughs, ‘We’ll see you in three weeks.’

Donnic grabs me and gives me a tight hug.

‘Be good, bro,’ he says, ‘Thanks for your Best Manly duties today. You’re a legend!’

I grab Isabela’s arm to steady myself as I watch them leave.

‘Need to sit down, sweet thing?’ she asks with a raised eyebrow.

Do I ever.

‘You need to stay off the wine, kitten,’ she says with a laugh, ‘You’re drunk as hell.’

I sit heavily in my seat and scan the table in front of me, looking for my glass of wine. I probably don’t need to drink any more, but I may as well finish it. It was right in front of me a minute ago. Directly in front of me. And now it’s gone.

‘What are you looking for, kitten?’ asks Isabela.

‘My, uh, drink,’ I say, ‘Was just… here... I think.’

She crouches down next to me, placing a hand on my knee.

‘It’s right in front of you,’ she says softly.

Huh. So it is.

I reach out and it takes a few attempts to pick up my glass. My brain is trying to tell my hand to work, but my hand is refusing to cooperate. I’ve only had a few drinks. I can’t believe how out of it I feel.

And now my glass is on the floor and my shirt is covered in red wine. I really must be exhausted.

‘Why is everything so far away?’ I mumble.

Is there fog in the room? And why is the floor moving?

‘Leto, kitten?’ I hear Isabela ask, ‘Are you okay? You’re slurring your words.’

Her voice is distant and sounds almost tinny. I’m not even sure which side of me she’s on anymore.

‘Do you need some sugar?’ she asks.

Only then does everything fall into place in my muddled head. The unbearable headache. The overwhelming desire to destroy things for no reason. The fact that everything is so far away, yet far too close at the same time.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

This whole situation is very, very bad.

‘I’m not well,’ my voice is shaking, ‘I’m having a hypo.’

‘Sit tight,’ Isabela says casually, ‘I’ll get you some soda.’

The room is spinning and my whole body is trembling. I’m properly scared now.

I reach out with an unsteady hand and grab her arm tightly.

I have no doubt that I’m on the verge of losing consciousness.

‘No,’ it’s a proper struggle to get my words out, ‘I think… I think I’m in trouble.’

 

\-------------

 

I open my eyes. All I can see is ugly fluoro lighting.

This hasn’t happened for a long, long time.

‘Where am I?’ I moan to myself, though I know full well what is going on, and I’m furious at myself.

‘Hospital.’

Oh fuck, that’s Garrett’s voice.

‘At least you had the good grace to wait until the bride and groom had left before you passed out.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You should be,’ he grumbles, ‘You scared the crap out of me. I thought you were going to die.’

I turn my still aching head towards him and manage a small, ashamed smile.

‘Clearly I didn’t,’ I say, shifting my weight on the hard mattress which I suspect is made of granite, ‘I really am sorry, Garrett.’

He’s looking at me with a relieved expression, but I can see there is hurt in his eyes.

‘And… I should apologise for my behaviour,’ I mumble, ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you before. At the reception.’

‘I thought I’d done something wrong,’ he rubs his eyes and groans, his voice sounds thick with emotion, ‘I was so confused. And then I came back, and you were on the floor having a fucking seizure. I’ve never seen anyone have a seizure before. It was horrible.’

I prop myself up on the uncomfortable pillow and reach out for Garrett’s hand. He looks exhausted, shoulders slumped and head down. His hair is an adorable mess and I can’t help laughing to myself as I notice he’s still wearing his too small pants with the fly undone.

He laces his fingers though mine and lifts my hand to his cheek, rubbing it against his rough beard.

‘When my blood sugar drops, I get really aggressive,’ I’m feeling very ashamed of myself, ‘I should have known what was happening. I’m sorry.’

‘Bela already explained that to me. She’s is mad at herself,’ he sighs, ‘Like, properly beating herself up.’

‘Huh? Is she here too?’

He nods wearily.

‘Says she should have known,’ he tells me softly, ‘When you were being extra grumpy.’

‘I’m always grumpy,’ I say sadly.

‘Not always,’ he reaches out and brushes my hair out of my eyes, and I feel better as a smile spreads across his face, ‘I’m just glad you’re awake.’

‘How long have I been out?’

‘Almost two hours,’ he says with a yawn, ‘I sent Bela to get me a coffee. She’s self-flagellating hard. I couldn’t deal with it.’

‘She’ll be okay.’

‘She cares more than she lets on. Leto,’ he says firmly, ‘She’s really upset.’

‘She shouldn’t be,’ I sigh, ‘It’s not that bad. I bet they won’t even keep me in overnight.’

‘It looked pretty bad when they were putting you in the fucking ambulance,’ he huffs, dropping his face again.

I ache all over, and we sit quietly for a few minutes. Garrett tries to cheer me up by showing me a video of baby goats on his phone.

A very disappointed woman walks into the room.

That would be my doctor, Wynne. And she’s not happy with me. Not happy at all.

‘I’ve been your doctor for ten years,’ she sighs, ‘and I’ve never known you to mess up this badly.’

I stare down at the drip in my arm, feeling properly sorry for myself. And stupid. I really did screw up today.

‘It was… I was caught up,’ I mumble, ‘With things. It was my friend’s wedding. I was… distracted.’

‘That’s a pretty poor excuse,’ she shakes her head at me, ‘You know the warning signs. This situation is really not good enough.’

Garrett reaches over and squeezes my hand.

‘Can you give him a break?’ he says wearily, ‘He didn’t do this on purpose.’

Wynne is looking at me with that motherly look I can’t stand. It never fails to make me feel guilty. I hate letting her down. She’s been my doctor since I turned eighteen. This is only my third instance of diabetic shock since then, but every time, she lets me know I’ve done bad.

I feel like a naughty puppy who’s chewed her favourite pair of shoes.

‘I’m aware of that,’ she says to Garrett, ‘But that doesn’t make this situation any less serious. Your boyfriend is a diabetic, and you should get familiar with the warning signs. You might save his life one day.’

I shoot Garrett a sideways glance, raising my eyebrow. He grins and looks down sheepishly.

‘You can probably go home within the next few hours,’ she says, writing something on my chart, ‘I’ll be back to check on you before you’re discharged.’

I watch her leave the room, and turn to Garrett.

‘Boyfriend?’ I ask in my best ‘ _I’m not completely eager and excited about this’_ voice.

‘Heh,’ he looks a bit flustered, ‘I thought… I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stay in the room with you. When you were unconscious and everything. So I kinda told them I was your boyfriend. So I could stay with you. I don’t know… I just…Yeah.’

I can feel my face flushing pink and I’m busy preparing my response, when a very drained Isabela walks into the room, still in her dishevelled bridesmaids dress. She’s somehow tucked the sides up so that the hem’s above her knees. It looks mildly ridiculous.

‘Leto!’ she gasps, nearly dropping the coffees she’s clutching in each hand, ‘You’re awake!’

She trusts the cups into Garrett’s hands and throws herself on me, burying her face in my neck.

‘I am so, _so_ sorry,’ she sobs.

Because this entire situation is entirely her fault.

‘Why are you apologising?’ I gasp, since she’s currently squeezing me to the point of breathlessness, ‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘I thought you were just drunk,’ she snivels, ‘I should have known. I should have known and I’m _so sorry_.’

I don’t know what to say to make her feel better, so I just let her hug me. She’s never seen me go into diabetic shock before. None of my friends have. I was actually planning on keeping it that way.

Well, so much for that.

‘I’m supposed to be your friend,’ she sighs, ‘I’m supposed to be your friend and I let you down.’

She climbs onto the bed, wrapping her arm around my middle and laying down. There really isn’t enough room for both of us, and Garrett laughs as we try to work out our configuration.

I realise that I must look awful, dressed in my flattering hospital gown and hair all over the place.

‘It’s not your job to take care of me,’ I tell Isabela, who squeezes me tighter.

‘That’s what friends do,’ she huffs, ‘They look out for each other.’

Garrett leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his coffee. And promptly spits it straight back into the brown paper cup.

‘What the fuck is this shit?’ he says with a disgusted look on his face.

‘Public Hospital coffee, kitten,’ giggles a very weary Isabela, ‘Good, isn’t it?’

Garrett sticks his tongue out in a display of revulsion, putting the cup down. I notice that the writing on the cup says ‘ _Freshly ground’_ and I smirk.

‘Where’s my disgusting coffee?’ I mumble into Isabela’s hair.

‘You don’t get one,’ she says, smacking the back of my hand, ‘You’re on a glucose drip, sweet thing.’

Isabela soon begins to doze off on my shoulder.

‘I’d better call Anders,’ yawns Garrett, ‘He’s bringing the ute down to pick us up.’

Well, getting picked up by Anders really will put the icing on the cake of my shitty, shitty evening. I’m sure he’ll be extremely worried about my well-being and be keen to make sure I get home safely.

He’s going to be insufferable.

‘No,’ I say firmly, ‘No, no, no. He’s not coming here. I’ll walk home if I have to.’

‘You don’t have a choice, Leto,’ says Garrett, pulling out his phone, ‘I’m putting my foot down.’

I let my cheek rest against Isabela’s head, closing my eyes. Her hair is soft and smells like the ocean. Her hair always smells like the ocean. She uses citrus scented shampoo. I know this for a fact. Yet, always, her hair smells of the ocean.

‘Please don’t tell Aveline and Donnic,’ I say to Garrett, ‘They don’t need to know about all this.’

‘Wasn’t planning on it… Oh, hey man!’ he say as his call is picked up, ‘Yeah. The doctor said he can go soon… What?’

He shakes his head.

‘How will we all fit if you bring her as well? Okay… okay fine. We’ll squeeze in somehow.’

He pockets his phone and sighs.

‘He’s bringing Merrill with him,’ he tells me, ‘She wants to make sure you’re okay.’

‘So that’s five people, and only two and a half seats?’

‘You can sit on my lap,’ he tells me with a grin.

‘Can I sit on your lap too, Garrett?’ mumbles a half asleep Isabela.

‘Why the fuck not?’ says Garrett, stretching his arms above his head, ‘Let’s all sit on Garrett’s lap! Maybe I’ll even sit on Garrett’s lap!’

Isabela starts snoring softly on my shoulder. When I’m finally discharged about half an hour later, I feel quite bad about having to wake her.

She grizzles until Garrett agrees to give her a piggy back ride out to the car park.

I want a piggy back ride.

And of course Anders isn’t where he said he’d be when we get out the front. So Garrett gently places a very sleepy Isabela onto one of the benches near the entrance and wanders over to where I’m standing.

I decide to be brave.

‘Garrett?’ I ask, eyes firmly focused on my feet, ‘Are we… I mean, uh, do you want… um…’

Okay. I was brave but I’m also an inarticulate idiot.

He’s laughing at me. I can’t even look up. My feet sure are interesting. Pink shoelaces. I have pink shoelaces. I like my pink shoelaces. They are the most interesting shoelaces in the world right now.

‘Promise me you’ll never scare me like that again,’ he chuckles, ‘and we have a deal.’

‘Huh?’

I manage to look up and meet his gaze. He has his trademark stupid grin.

‘I don’t want a boyfriend who can’t pay attention to his own wellbeing. You need to start taking better care of yourself, Leto.’

‘Okay,’ I say nervously, dropping my eyes again, ‘So… this is a thing?’

He laughs loudly and pulls me into a tight hug.

‘Do you want it to be?’ he laughs, ‘Because you sound absolutely terrified right now.’

‘I would like to,’ I take a deep breath. He’s right. I am terrified. ‘I’d like to… be your boyfriend.’

I allow myself to relax into his tight embrace, resting my cheek against his broad chest. I like this. I could get used to hugs like this.

I unintentionally let out a low, contented moan. This just causes Garrett to hug me tighter.

‘Glad to hear it,’ he chuckles, as Anders pulls up in the ute, ‘Let’s get you home, Mr. Sickie.’

We squeeze in as best we can, pushing Merrill onto Isabela’s lap, while I sit on Garrett with my feet up on the dashboard. I’ll admit this isn’t the most comfortable I’ve ever been in a car. But we make do.

Anders is being a jerk. He’s being a total dick about the whole situation.

He tells me I’m irresponsible. That I should have known better. He also accuses me of having a seizure to get attention. What a dick.

Garrett wraps his arms around my shoulders and I nuzzle into his neck.

Anders can carry on as much as he wants. I don’t care.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mega thank you to my awesome beta MasterWarden41! I've shamelessly added some game dialogue into this chapter because I love it so much ^_^ Heheh.

I’ve worked with food since I left school. Thirteen years ago.

And every couple of years, I have to come along to Food Safety refresher course. I’ve done it so many times that I could probably run this damn course in my sleep.

I don’t really have a choice. Alistair and Elissa would get hauled over the coals by the Food Safety Council if their employees didn’t have current certificates.

At least I have Merrill with me to stop me from falling asleep.

We spent the morning doing group work, where we had to write stupid things on a large piece of butcher’s paper. I sat back scowling at the group with my arms folded. I do not like group work.

And now, we’re being told if you drop food on the floor, it needs to go in the bin. I’m going to go mental with boredom.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and hold it in my lap to text Garrett.

‘ ** _so bored. help me_.** ’

While I wait for him to reply, I start scrolling through my photos.

I guess I must have left my phone unattended at some point, because there are about thirty cleavage filled selfies courtesy of Isabela.

It takes him half a minute to respond.

‘ ** _haha you and me both. i swear meredith is on drugs. she's being a psycho_**.’

He really, really does not like his boss. At all.

The other night he got so worked up while describing her new policy on Invasive Species that he broke a chair by sitting down too hard in frustration.

I’m not ashamed to say I laughed.

‘ ** _I hope you have a hilarious story about her for me. My day’s been boring as fuck._** ’

I put my phone down and try to pay attention. Because that’s a thing that is totally going to happen.

I’m feeling very lazy and can’t wait to cuddle up on the sofa with him. And I’m sure that Mouse will also be joining us. Which is fine by me.

My phone vibrates in my lap.

**_‘let me make you dinner tonite’_ **

Um… What?

We’d planned to have take-away at his place tonight.

I reread the message to make sure I understand it correctly.

Garrett wants to make me dinner. This could be interesting.

**_‘You mean heat me something up in the microwave?’_ **

I half expect him to respond telling me he was joking.

**_‘NO! i’ll actually try to cook something. i want to try.’_ **

I’ve seen what the man classes as food. And I can’t say that his message fills me with confidence.

**_‘Should I be scared?’_ **

Because I am.

**_‘maybe! let’s find out :)’_ **

Okay. Tonight will be interesting. I’ll probably be going to bed with food poisoning.

**_‘Ok. Please don’t let me regret agreeing to this.’_ **

I’m going to regret this.

**_‘you won’t! i promise :) i can’t wait to cuddle you. it’s all i can think about =P’_ **

I squeak and fumble with my phone, clearing my throat and straightening up too quickly.

Oh he’s too cute. I read the message over and over just because he’s too cute.

Merrill’s watching me with a wide eyed smile, so I quickly put my phone back into my pocket and try to wipe the stupid grin off my face.

I, Leto, do not grin stupidly.

I look down at the table, rubbing the back of my neck self-consciously.

She leans over and starts scribbling on my workbook. At first she draws daisies in the corner of the page. Then she starts writing something.

‘ _You’re in love,_ ’ she scribbles.

I raise my eyebrow at her, and she just grins.

‘ _I am not,_ ’ I write.

She covers her mouth and giggles.

‘ _You keep looking at that text from Garrett with sad puppy eyes every time you think I can’t see you._ ’

_Puppy eyes_? What the hell is she talking about?

‘ _There are no puppy eyes.’_

_‘_ It's all right, you know,’ she leans over and whispers, ‘Even you can be happy once in a while. It won't kill you. But your face might crack if you smile, so be careful.’

She’s grinning at me. She loves Garrett. I think she has a bit of a crush on him to be honest.

I don’t blame her.

She constantly invites him over to her house so that he can help her with her longest running project.

She found a broken mirror in a hard rubbish pile.

Because that’s what Merrill does. She looks at piles of people’s trash and takes it home to fix.

She’s had the bloody mirror for nearly a year. She mentioned it to Garrett, who kindly offered to help her. He now regrets his offer of help. And I won’t go with him because Merrill’s house freaks me the fuck out. It’s a fucking crystal palace. She’s one of those people who is into crystal magic, or healing, or whatever it is that people do with crystals.

But she’s a sweet girl. And surprisingly stubborn when she wants to be. She will not give up on that mirror.

I know she’s happy to see me with someone again.

It’s been a while since I’ve been involved with anyone. I don’t really have a great track record when it comes to relationships.

Maybe it’s because I’m a grumpy bastard. Maybe it’s because I don’t like people very much.

But I do like Garrett.

I feel my face go slightly pink and I can’t help a little smile forming as I think of the day we met. I was an awkward idiot. And he was adorable.

We’ve been on frequent, progressively less awkward dates over the last few weeks, but tonight, I’ll actually be spending the night with him for the first time. In his bed, as opposed to the spare room.

We haven’t managed to get that far yet.

Not for lack of trying on his part. He’s used a thousand different excuses to come into my house when he drops me home. I always refuse.

One look at the state of my house and he’d run a mile.

But his house. I can deal with staying at his house.

I’m excited. And fucking terrified.

I suddenly realise my papers are being picked up from in front of me. The instructor is collecting our work.

My work with stupid childish notes written in the corner.

I think of Merrill’s ‘ _You’re in love’_ and I bury my face in my hands.

Well, I suppose the instructor can think I have the mentality of a 12 year old child. Not my problem.

I’m just glad that the day is finally over.

And now Garrett is going to pick me up and make me dinner.

Garrett. Is going to make me dinner. The man who only learned how to preheat an oven three weeks ago.

He’s going to make me dinner.

This will be interesting.

 

\------------------

 

I lean back into Garrett’s arms with a groan.

‘You full?’ he chuckles, wrapping an arm around me and placing a hand on my belly.

‘Very,’ I sigh, reaching down to unbutton my jeans, ‘I haven’t eaten this much in a long time. It was so good, I couldn’t stop!’

I really wish I hadn’t chosen to wear skinny jeans today. Skinny jeans were defiantly a mistake.

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ he says, nuzzling the back of my head.

I close my eyes in pleasure as he gently rubs my aching stomach. I’m so relaxed and contented right now, I think I may actually have turned to liquid.

When he told me he’d make me dinner, I expected to go to bed hungry after he produced some sort of inedible compost.

But I’ll certainly not be going to bed hungry tonight. I don’t think I’ll be hungry again ever.

Garrett spent ages in the kitchen working on his creation. He ended up sending me away to have a shower and watch _The IT Crowd_ on his laptop until he was finished, because he wanted his dinner to be a surprise.

I didn’t believe for a second that he would produce anything remotely edible.

The man doesn’t even know how make porridge. The sort that comes in a packet and goes in the microwave for sixty seconds. That is beyond his capabilities.

But he was determined. He’d watched cooking videos on _youtube_. He knew what he was doing.

I was busy laughing over the word ‘ _TNETENNBA’_ , when I realised I was on my third episode of _The IT Crowd_ in a row and my stomach was starting to protest about the lack of food. I thought I had better check on him, and got into the kitchen to find the sink full of food and the tap running in an attempt to quell the noxious gas filling the kitchen.

_‘Don’t come any closer!’_ he squealed when he saw me, _‘It smells revolting and I set a tea towel on fire! Also I melted a plastic stirry thing into the food so it’s probably toxic now.’_

Yep, we ordered curry. And it was delicious.

And now, after a relaxing evening on the sofa, I’m falling into a food coma on Garrett’s lap.

‘Some of us have to work tomorrow,’ he murmurs into my hair, ‘I think it’s about bedtime.’

I nod wearily into his shoulder but make no attempt to move.

‘Come on,’ he chuckles, ‘Get up.’

‘Can’t,’ I groan, ‘Too full.’

‘Then I’ll just have to carry you,’ he says, tucking his arms underneath me and picking me up, ‘Come on, Mister.’

‘No… Garrett! My tummy hurts!’ I whimper pathetically, ‘Be gentle!’

He chuckles as he carries me towards the bedroom. I allow myself to relax into his arms, humming in pleasure at the idea of spending the night in his bed.

What if I say something embarrassing in my sleep?

Isabela delights in telling me about the things I say in my sleep. She’s recorded me a few times. My best effort was ‘ _Those fucking kittens told me no. They said I’m too heavy. I didn’t want to go anyway. Fuck them_.’

As it turns out, his bed is far more comfortable than mine and I feel at home immediately.

He lays me down on the bed and grabs the cuff of my jeans.

‘May I?’ he asks, giving them a tentative tug.

I nod, suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious.

ButI’m wearing my lucky Storm Trooper briefs. Hell yeah.

He tugs my jeans off gently, throwing them on the floor before climbing onto the bed and crouching above me.

I have skinny legs. Please don’t laugh at my skinny legs!

I cross my legs and rub my ankles together apprehensively, looking away towards the wall so that I don’t have to meet his eyes.

I’m a skinny little shit.

‘You have really nice legs,’ he finally says with a grin.

I breathe out softly as his runs his calloused, rough hands up the sides of my thighs.

‘I mean, really, really sexy legs,’ he sighs.

He’s just saying that because he knows I’m self-conscious about my skinny legs probably. My face is still turning pink, though.

He starts to wiggle out of his work pants, getting them caught around his ankle and falling on top of me as he tries to kick them off.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ he groans impatiently, shaking his leg like a dog having its belly scratched, ‘Stupid fucking pants!’

I forget my self-consciousness as he squirms on top of me. I cover my mouth and chuckle.

His fight with his pants is getting quite intense.

‘Shit, man! Sorry!’ he gasps as he accidentally elbows me in the jaw. It hurts, but the whole situation is so funny that I don’t really care.

He’s completely tangled now, and he has to roll off of me to unwind himself.

‘Ha!’ he cries triumphantly, throwing his pants across the room, ‘Take that, you piece of shit things!’

He turns back to me with a wide grin.

‘So romantic…’ I tell him with a smile.

’I’m all about the romance,’ he says me with a grin, ‘Surely you’ve noticed.’

He slides his hands over my abdomen, pushing my shirt up to reveal my belly.

‘Nice…’ his moans breathlessly, ‘You’re so fucking sexy…’

I tug at his shirt impatiently.

‘Off,’ I tell him impatiently, ‘Take it off.’

‘Bossy!’ he grins, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor.

He is SO. FUCKING. HOT.

And so fucking hairy.

His arms are massive. His chest is massive. He’s just fucking massive.

‘How does someone with a desk job have a body like this?’ I sigh, reaching up to run my fingers though his chest hair.

I’ve wanted to run my fingers though his chest hair since the day we met.

‘You still have your T-shirt on,’ he pouts, ‘Not fair.’

I wiggle my T-shirt over my head and it quickly joins his on the floor.

‘Can I kiss your tummy?’ he moans, brushing his nose against my belly button. I can feel his warm breath against me and my head starts to spin.

‘Please…’ I gasp, squirming under him, ‘Please kiss it…’

He presses his lips into my abdomen, planting gentle kisses up towards my ribs. I try to keep my breathing steady, letting my hands drift down to fist my hands into his scruffy hair.

‘Oh my god…’ I sigh, lost in pleasure, ‘That feels so good…’

I’m so fucking hard right now.

I need him inside me so bad.

There’s a voice inside my head that’s telling me to slow down, but I don’t want to listen to it.

He grabs my hips and pulls me into his lap.

My cock against his. All that separates us is our underwear. I think I might be dying.

He runs his hand down my back, and I gasp as I feel his hand slide into my briefs.

He starts to work them down over my ass.

Wait. This is too fast.

‘Stop! I’m not ready, Garrett,’ I blurt out, placing my hand against his chest and pushing myself back slightly.

Thank you, stupid voice in my head. You’ve fucking ruined this.

I bite my lip nervously, feeling my face flush.

I was totally into this a second ago, but now I’m scared as hell.

And so hard it hurts.

‘Can we just… make out tonight?’ my voice is wavering and I feel stupid, ‘I know my body is saying it’s ready. I just… I’d prefer to take things slow. If… if that’s okay.’

My body is really, _really_ ready. Embarrassingly so.

‘That’s okay,’ he laughs, ‘We can take things as slow as you want.’

I really hope he’s not just saying that.

‘Are you sure?’ I mumble shyly.

‘Sex isn’t everything, Leto,’ he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body tightly, ‘It’s okay. I can wait. Besides, I really like cuddling you.’

I can’t imagine why. I’m a skinny little runt. But I like cuddling him. I feel tiny in his big arms.

‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’ I ask nervously.

He nuzzles into my neck. His beard is tickling me and I gasp and giggle at the same time.

‘That depends what it is, I guess,’ he mumbles into my neck, ‘Ask me and we’ll see.’

I pull back and lower my eyes, suddenly very self-conscious.

‘How many people have you slept with?’

A totally romantic question. Way to go, Leto.

‘Had a feeling that’s what you were going to ask,’ he chuckles, ‘Not much of a selection back in Lothering. But when I was at Uni, I turned into a bit of a man whore, so yeah. A few.’

Well, of course he’s had a lot of partners. How could he not? I had no doubt that I’m not the first person to fall hard for the big dork.

He’s adorable and sexy at the same time. He’s sexdorable. That’s totally a word that exists.

I prop myself up on one elbow and start running my fingers through the hair on his belly.

‘But you were always… careful?’ I ask nervously.

‘Of course!’ he laughs, ‘I’m not an idiot.’

I let out a relieved sigh and lay my head down on his shoulder.

‘Well, there was the odd BJ,’ he continues, ‘but I’ve been tested. All good. You? How many, I mean. That came out wrong, sorry.’

I lay against him for a moment, chewing my lip. My sexual history is really nothing to write home about.

Because that’s something you actually do write home about.

_‘Dear Mum, Let me tell you how many people I’ve had sex with…’_

The thought causes me to snort softly into my hand and Garrett raises an eyebrow at me.

‘A conservative number,’ I say finally, feeling slightly self-conscious, ‘Not many.’

‘All men?’ he asks, brushing my fringe out of my eyes.

‘There was one woman,’ I tell him honestly, ‘It was… not unpleasant.’

I really hope he doesn’t ask for more details.

‘You like girls?’

I shake my head.

‘I thought I did at one stage, but no, not really.’

I feel my face heat up as that awkward, embarrassing night floods back into my mind. Maybe one day I’ll tell him about that night. But not tonight. I don’t want to be laughed at right now.

‘I kissed a girl when I was thirteen,’ he tells me, ‘Just so I could brag to my mates. That’s the extent of my experience with women.’

I lay my head on his chest and let my eyes close. The awkwardness of my sexual history seems to have settled things in my underwear.

‘Sorry,’ I sigh, feeling heavy with sleep and far too much food.

He brushes his fingers down my spine. I shiver and burrow my face into his neck.

‘For what?’ he asks me with a yawn.

‘For… not being ready,’ I murmur, ‘For sex.’

He wraps his big arms around me and kisses my forehead.

‘You’re a silly boy, Leto,’ comes his weary voice, ‘I can wait. I’m glad you were honest with me, and didn’t do anything you didn’t want to.’

‘I did, _do_ , want to,’ I reassure him, ‘It’s just… I’ve been treated badly in the past. Not that I think you’d hurt me. I’m just…’

‘Shh…’ he holds his finger to my lips, ‘I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. I just want to sleep with you tonight.’

‘Um…’ I look up at him with a smile, ‘Sleep with me?’

He smacks himself in the forehead.

‘I mean, _sleep_ with you. Go to sleep with you,’ he starts to laugh, ‘Fuck! I’m sounding like an idiot! I want to be asleep in the same bed as you with no dicking. I made a mess of that.’

I settle myself on his chest again, warm and safe in his embrace.

‘I know what you meant,’ I tell him with a smile, ‘Thank you, Garrett. I’m really glad to be here with you.’

‘Hmm…’ he mumbles into my hair. He’s falling asleep, ‘Sweet dreams, Leto.’

Unfortunately, I’m not quite so full and sleepy anymore. I can’t get to sleep.

I knew this was going to happen.

I end up spending almost three hours reading various baking blogs on my phone, taking mental notes so I can try out some new ideas at work tomorrow.

But when I finally feel sleep creeping up on me, I rest my head gently on Garrett’s chest. He stirs slightly, smiling softly in his sleep. He wraps his arm around me, and I drift off curled into his side. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable.

 

\---------------

 

‘Fucking arse balls!’

I’m awoken by a large, hairy man climbing over me in a frenzy and it takes me a moment to realise where I am.

‘Garrett?’ I mumble, struggling to open my eyes.

‘Fucking piece of shit fucking phone,’ he growls, leaping off the bed and scrambling to get into his clothes, ‘My bloody alarm didn’t go off and I’m late for work.’

I force myself into a sitting position and rub my eyes. It’s too early.

‘Did your phone die during the night?’ I yawn.

‘No,’ he says, ‘I forgot to set it. Meredith is going to kill me.’

I want to laugh, but I don’t. Thankfully. I don’t think that would be appropriate right now.

‘Anything I can do to help?’ I mumble, rather unhelpfully.

‘You’re good, man,’ comes his muffled voice as he pulls on yesterday’s crumpled shirt, ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘Want me to make you a coffee or something?’ I groan, stretching my arms over my head.

I really hope he doesn’t take me up on that offer. It’s before midday, after all.

He’s mostly dressed now and he jumps onto the bed to give me a kiss.

‘Go back to sleep,’ he tells me, ‘When you leave for work, just make sure Mouse has water in his bowl. The front door’s deadlocked. You just have to pull it closed when you leave.’

I collapse back into the pillows and watch him pull his jacket on.

‘Have I ever told you how fucking cute you are in the morning?’ he grins on his way out the door.

‘I’m not cute,’ I yawn, nestling back into the covers, ‘Have a good day.’

I can feel myself falling asleep and he runs down the hall.

I’m defiantly staying at Garrett’s place whenever I get the chance. His bed’s amazing.

I’m asleep again before he’s out the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of this chapter should be 'Jack wanted to write a sex scene but chickened out'. Sorry about that that. Also, if anyone is wondering about the word 'Tnetennba', I recommend watch episode 2, series 4 of The IT Crowd. In fact, just watch The IT Crowd. It's the funniest show ever made XD


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my buddy [thegarretthawke](http://thegarretthawke.tumblr.com/) for his awesome beta skills!

So I’ve been sitting here, waiting for this bloody download to finish for about an hour now.

Estimated time left appears to be jumping for anywhere from 21 minutes to 19 days.

I think Garrett needs to do something about his slow as hell internet.

But I prefer a house that has slow internet to my house, which now has a black mould problem.

A problem I’m planning on ignoring since I don’t actually know how to get rid of the stuff.

I’m hoping it eventually just goes away on its own.

I got all excited about my new game. I planned to play it today while he was at work, because I can’t afford a PS4 and he has one which he hardly uses.

I guess it’s been a long time since he’s used it, because the moment I put the disk in it told me _System Update required to use Network features_. Not what I was hoping for.

So I’m sitting here in nothing but my underwear, watching the _Downloads_ menu like that’s going to make it go any faster.

Oh. Apparently the download will now take 1 day and 6 hours.

‘Just what are we going to do, Mr. Mouse?’ I sigh, reaching over and scratching my sofa companion behind the ears.

He’s too busy with his Dentastick to care.

I suppose that I could get a start on dinner, or at least do something vaguely useful, since Garrett will be home soon. But I don’t want to miss any exciting developments in the download department.

‘I want to play my fucking game…’ I moan to myself, turning the case over in my hands and reading the back for the seven hundredth time.

I’m reduced to reading the _Copyright_ fine print at the bottom when Mouse leaps off the sofa and tears out of the room.

I hear him scrabble down the hallway and jump up on the front door only seconds before the door opens.

‘Oh, it’s my baby!’ I hear Garrett say excitedly, ‘What have you been up to today, Stinky?’

Mouse is whining in excitement as he greets his beloved father, who abandoned him for the day and left him with the grumpy, download obsessed boyfriend. I really should have taken the poor dog for a walk.

‘Your internet connection sucks!’ I yell from my spot on the sofa.

Having had his cuddle requirements met, Mouse bounds back into the room and jumps back into his still warm spot, lunging for his temporarily forgotten Dentastick with excitement.

Garrett is close behind, his hands full of shopping bags.

I jump up to help him.

‘Leto, man,’ he sighs, ‘You need to put some pants on.’

‘Why?’ I ask, taking a handful of bags from Garrett, ’It’s too warm for pants.’

He follows me down the hallway towards the kitchen with the rest of the bags. I’m going to guess that at least eighty five percent of the contents of these bags are useless and ridiculous.

‘Normally I wouldn’t care about you walking around my house in just your underwear,’ he grins, ‘But Bethy will be hear in like, half an hour. She just texted me.’

‘Huh?’ I stare at him blankly.

‘Don’t tell me you forgot,’ he chuckles, ‘She’s coming down for a friends Hen’s Party, and staying here for the weekend. I told you at least four times.’

So I finally get to meet the sister. All I can picture is a long haired version of Garrett, beard and all.

‘I thought that she was arriving tomorrow,’ I say sheepishly, ‘Was I supposed to make dinner or something?’

‘Nah. Aveline and Donnic are coming round a bit later,’ he places his bags on the kitchen counter and loosens his tie, ‘Donnic and I are going to be real men and barbeque a whole stack of meat.’

‘Do I have to put on actual pants, or are shorts acceptable?’

It’s summer. It was thirty seven degrees today. I’m not interested in pants. It’s Friday. Fridays are pants off day as far as I’m concerned. Though I suppose meeting Garrett’s sister in nothing but boxer briefs is probably not acceptable.

‘Hah. Bethy won’t care! Shorts are fine,’ he yawns, stretching his arms above his head, ‘I’ll probably put shorts on too.’

Shorts I can deal with.

‘Okay. But I need to have a shower,’ I tell him, ‘I smell like dog and sweat.’

Garrett grabs me around the waist, pulling me hard against his body and burying his head in my hair.

‘You don’t smell too bad,’ he grins, ‘I like the way you smell.’

Oh, well this is perfect. His sister is on her way, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to become embarrassingly horny.

Well, I suppose we have time.

My hands wander up to tangle in his hair, and I let out a contented hum as he places a gentle kiss behind my ear.

He moves down my neck, nipping and sucking until he reaches my collar bone. I hiss in pleasure as he sinks his teeth into my flesh.

‘My god, you’re sexy as hell,’ he growls into my ear, making me tremble.

And now I’mincredibly hard. Properly, ridiculously horny.

It doesn’t take much when it’s Garrett, I guess. I like him too fucking much.

I run my hand up the back of his neck, my body shivering with arousal, and grab a handful of his dark hair. I pull him up to my lips and we kiss roughly. I ease his tongue into my mouth and I moan, pulling him in tighter.

He wriggles his thigh in between my legs and I can’t help but grind my groin against him furiously, desperate to feel the friction against my cock.

‘You a bit excited, there?’ he chuckles into my ear breathlessly. I can feel his own arousal against my stomach. Suddenly I desperately want to swallow it.

I can’t get any words out, I just nod and bury my face in his neck, kissing him frantically.

I grab his hand and guide it to my painfully hard cock.

‘Leto,’ he chuckles, rubbing his palm against my erection, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Shut up,’ I groan, ‘Feels so good…’

I push his hand down the front of my boxer briefs.

‘Nice…’ he pants, wrapping his hand around my cock, ‘Really fucking nice…’

He begins to stroke my cock firmly and I arch my back, thrusting my hips into his hand.

‘Why do you have your clothes on still,’ I growl into his neck.

‘Because,’ he groans, rubbing his cock against my belly and making me whine, ‘We shouldn’t be doing this right now. And if I take my clothes off, I’m not going to be able to resist burying my cock in your arse and my sister’s going to walk in to a nasty surprise.’

And then his phone buzzes.

His fucking phone.

I really hope he just ignores it.

But he pulls his hand out of my boxers, taking a deep breath, and checks the message.

What the fuck?

‘Beth’s not far away,’ he sighs, ‘She’ll be here soon.’

‘Are you serious?’ I groan, grabbing Garrett’s phone out of his hand and throwing it back onto the counter.

I watch him adjust himself. He’s actually going to stop.

‘Garrett…’ I pant, leaning back against the kitchen counter, rubbing my palm against my erection, ‘Don’t leave me like this.’

I can feel the desire pooling low in my belly. If he stops now I’m going to go mad.

‘Please…’

‘Who put my hand in your pants?’ he laughs, ‘You got yourself in this situation, Mister.’

My body is painfully aware that we still haven’t gotten to the sex part of our relationship yet, and to be honest, I’m incredibly ready. So ready that it’s not even funny.

‘Can’t you just… finish me off quickly?’

He kisses my neck again and chuckles.

‘No,’ he tells me, ‘I want to do it properly. I want to take my time and drive you fucking insane. I’m not doing a rush job.’

I want to scream.

I curse my body’s awful timing. I’m desperate to be well fucked. On the weekend that Garrett’s sister will be sleeping one room away.

Garrett chuckles and pulls away from me. He’s still flushed and panting, but is taking his lack of release far better than I am.

‘Go have a shower,’ he grins, ‘You’ll have to finish yourself off, I’m afraid. Bethy will be here soon.’

 

\-------------------

 

I feel remarkably more human after having a shower and a furious wank. And a little ashamed that I spent half of my day watching a download. At least I can unpack Garrett’s shopping for him. I can do one useful thing today.

At least three of the bags just contain chips.

‘Is there any real food in here?’ I ask him, emptying one of the shopping bags onto the counter, ‘Or is it just snack food and… a _Kidzone_ magazine?’

A Kidzone magazine that features an article on Ben 10, and has a pull out One Direction poster.

‘Look!’ he tells me excitedly, ‘Look what it comes with!’

‘A small plastic dinosaur.’

‘Dragon,’ he places his hands on my shoulders and tells me quite seriously, ‘It’s a dragon, Leto.’

So it is. A cheap, purple, plastic dragon.

‘My mistake,’ I smirk, shaking my head, ‘You can put it with your ten thousand other dragons.’

‘Yep,’ Garrett grabs the magazine out of my hands, tearing open the plastic bag and retrieving his prize, ‘They will welcome him with open arms. His name is Mr. Chompy.’

The magazine, still in its plastic bag, is dumped straight in the bin.

I smile at the big moron and turn back to the bags covering the counter.

‘Cheese Tubes,’ I read as I pull out a bright yellow packet, ‘Cheese flavoured snacks made with real cheese. No added MSG.’

They look like they’re made of fluoro.

‘What?!’ Garrett looks slightly disappointed, ‘But I’m all about the MSG!’

‘These have a health star rating of half a star,’ I say as I put them into the cupboard, ‘Out of five stars. I don’t actually know why they would print that so proudly on the packet.’

He pulls the packet straight back out again, tearing it open and shoving a handful of the bright orange snacks into his mouth. I can smell them from the other side of the kitchen and I find myself wondering how the man has managed to avoid getting scurvy at least six times in his life.

‘That kind of thing is a major selling point for me, actually,’ he tells me with his mouth full, ‘The less nutritional value in a snack food, the better it tastes. I can’t believe I bought something without MSG in though. I’ll have to pay more attention next time.’

He’s devoured most to the packet when the doorbell rings, and his eyes light up. He tosses the mostly empty packet towards the counter, missing it spectacularly.

‘She’s here!’ he practically squeals, ‘My little sister is here!’

He runs out of the kitchen and I chuckle to myself. I pick up the chip packet from the floor and place it on the counter, then follow him out into the hallway.

He’s already let her in and has her in a tight hug.

She’s damn pretty. And she doesn’t have a beard, which is good.

‘Leto?’ she smiles at me, brushing her dark hair away from her face, ‘Oh my god, I’m so glad to finally meet you!’

Before I have a chance to reply, she pulls me into a tight hug. Which is weird. I’m not a hugger. What’s with hugging someone you’ve only just met?

‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ I say when she finally releases me from her death grip, ‘Garrett talks about you all the time.’

‘Holy crap!’ she gasps, ‘Your voice is so much deeper than I expected!’

Is that a good or a bad thing?

‘You’re so pretty!’ she continues, ‘I thought you’d have a girly voice or something.’

I assume that was meant to be a compliment? Even still, I have to look down at me feet as I feel my face heat up.

‘Careful, Beth,’ grins Garrett, ‘He doesn’t do well with compliments. If he gets too many, he gets grumpy and has to go off and have a power brood in the corner.’

I take a step back and notice that she’s wearing the horse charm that Garrett bought her the first night we had dinner together around her neck. It makes the corners of my mouth turn up slightly, and a glance down at my red bracelet. I wonder if Garrett ever thinks about the fact I’ve never once taken it off.

She puts her bag down in the middle of the hallway and pulls her phone out.

‘Look!’ she shoves her phone towards Garrett, ‘Dennet bred him, I’m hoping he’ll mature over seventeen hands.’

Garrett groans and buries his face in his hands.

‘Another one?’ he sighs, ‘Do you need another one?’

I look over at her phone screen.

‘It’s a baby horse!’ I say, ‘Is he yours?’

She grins at me and nods.

‘I’m going to break him myself once he’s gelded,’ she’s clearly quite excited, ‘I do dressage. I’m on the State Squad. Did you know Garrett went to the State Championships for Eventing when he was twelve? He should never have given it up, he rides like a demon!’

I stare at her blankly.

‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ I say softly, ‘Why do you want to break your horse?’

‘Break him in,’ she laughs, and I kind of know what she’s talking about, ‘Train him.’

I find myself wondering how many horses she owns. Horses are kind of scary to me. Not that I’ve ever been within a hundred metres of one.

‘Sorry,’ I tell her, ‘I don’t know anything about horses.’

She wraps an arm around my shoulder.

‘Then in July, I’m going to give you a ride on my old mare,’ she tells me excitedly, ‘She’s dead quiet. I’ve had kids on her. She’s bombproof. Twelve Two. Tiny. Safe.’

‘July?’ I’m totally lost now, ‘What’s happening in July?’

She looks as lost as I do.

‘My twin brother and I are turning twenty one,’ she says, ‘I asked Garrett to invite you to our party? The whole family will be there.’

Garrett is looking at his feet. He looks sick. I’ve defiantly missed something.

Or I haven’t been told something.

‘Did you ask him?’ Bethany asks Garrett in a very annoyed tone, then turning to face me, ‘Are you coming?’

‘Beth,’ Garrett mumbles feebly, ‘We talked about this.’

‘No! It’s not your birthday!’ Bethany cries, ‘I want you to bring him!’

Garrett sighs and shakes his head.

‘It’s not that simple, Bethy, you know that.’

‘You’re invited, Leto,’ she tells me in a determined voice, ‘I want you there. You’re my big brother’s boyfriend and I want you to come.’

Well. This is awkward.

‘Why don’t you ask me if it’s what I want?’ Garrett growls, ‘I’m not ready for this and you know it.’

Bethany looks at me sadly. I’m starting to feel worried. They’re talking about me like I’m not here, and I can’t work out what I’ve done wrong.

‘You’re being a coward, Garrett,’ Bethany says firmly.

What have I done that’s so bad that would mean Garrett doesn’t want me to meet his family?

‘Can we discuss this in another room, please?’ pleads Garrett, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

She crosses her arms and pouts at him, but eventually throws her hands up in defeat.

‘Fine! Fine!’ she sighs, ‘Let’s talk in kitchen.’

So Garrett doesn’t want me at his sister’s birthday. That’s fine. I don’t even really know his sister. I don’t care.

I totally do.

And now I’m sitting in the backyard with Mouse feeling like a giant ball of anxiety.

I thought Garrett liked me.

No, I’m being ridiculous. I know Garrett likes me.

I think.

Maybe he just doesn’t want to introduce me to his family because we haven’t been together long.

Bethany and Carver’s birthday is still a few months away.

Of course!

He doesn’t want to invite me because he doesn’t know if we’ll still be together in a few months. It’s suddenly so obvious.

He thinks he’ll be sick of me by then. Sick of the uneducated, diabetic, broody loser.

Well, now I feel like crap.

I feel a lump in my throat and feel tears of frustration pricking at me eyes as I watch Mouse burying a shoe in the corner of the garden.

I feel totally unwanted and unwelcome. I should probably leave. I need to get out of here.

I’ll go home to my mouldy house and think about what a pathetic loser I am.

But before I have a chance to do anything, I hear the back door slide open.

‘Leto?’

I subtlety wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and take a shaky breath.

‘Don’t worry, Garrett,’ I sigh, ‘You don’t want me there. Why would you? Clearly one of us is more invested in this than the other.’

‘What?’ he sounds genuinely surprised, ‘Are you angry because I didn’t invite you the Beth and Carver’s birthday?’

‘You don’t want me to meet you family,’ I spit, leaning forward and pulling out a handful of grass angrily, ‘I understand.’

I stand up and dust off the seat of my jeans.

‘Are you angry, Leto?’ he asks.

‘Why would I be angry?’ I hiss, ‘Why would I be upset that I’m too much of a fucking loser to meet your family?’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ sighs Garrett, ‘You’re overreacting.’

I’m not overreacting. I have every right to be pissed off as far as I’m concerned.

‘I’m kinda tired, actually,’ I sigh, ‘I should probably go home.’

Good work, Leto. Bail. That’s exactly how to fix a problem. Just run the fuck away.

‘Don’t be so fucking stupid,’ he says loudly, reaching out and grabbing my arm, ‘Why don’t you ask me why I didn’t invite you, rather than jumping to childish conclusions?’

My shoulders sag and my feet are suddenly very interesting. I am childish. I’m a pathetic, childish, manbaby. I create problems where there are none. I hate being reminded of this.

I have nothing to say to him. So I’ll just stand here uncomfortably.

‘Sorry,’ Garrett sighs, running a hand over his face in frustration, ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

I swallow hard and try to meet his eyes. But I can’t.

‘My family…’ he sighs, ‘My family… they… To be honest, I don’t really have the energy to discuss this right now.’

We’re silent for a few moments. Neither of us really knows what to do.

Yep. This is defiantly awkward.

Eventually he takes a step towards me and I feel his strong arms wrap around me, pulling me in close.

‘It has nothing to do with you, Leto,’ He murmurs into my hair, ‘It’s my problem and I’ll deal with it. I really would like you to come, okay? Just… it’s going to be hard for me.’

I nod against his chest.

‘Why…’

‘Shh,’ he cuts me off, ‘Not now. I’m not in the mood for discussing emotional family issues. Not tonight.’

‘Sorry I’m a bad tempered moron sometimes,’ I mumble.

‘Don’t be sorry, you idiot,’ he kisses me on the forehead, ‘Donnic and I are going to barbeque the shit out of some sausages tonight. Sausages make everything better!’

Aveline pokes her head out the back door.

‘Hey, Leto!’ she calls out, ‘You guys coming inside?’

I haven’t seen Aveline and Donnic since they go back from their honeymoon, and I’ve missed them like crazy.

I feel a big, genuine smile appear on my face and I grab Garrett’s hand, dragging him back inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos and comments! I'm still having heaps of fun writing this ^_^ Hopefully I'll be less slack with updates in the future.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly the dog story is a true story :( It is the whole reason I chose not to become a vet. The things you see as a 16 year old doing work experience. There was no punching involved in my case, though there should have been. People are jerks :(

‘Mother fucking piece of shit lock,’ Garrett growls as he furiously turns his key, ‘It gets worse every time!’

Perhaps if he wasn’t so impatient to open his door every time, the key would work better. But that’s none of my business.

‘BETH!’ he yells through the locked door, ‘ARE YOU HERE? WE’RE LOCKED…’

The key turns and the door swings open.

‘Oh,’ he chuckles, ‘Never mind then.’

Turns out that Bethany is in the shower. Mouse is laying in front of the bathroom door. His tail starts thumping on the floorboards when he sees that his master has returned, but he makes no effort to get up. He whines until Garrett goes over to scratch him behind the ear, then returns to looking at the crack under the door. As far as he’s concerned there’s a party in there that he wasn’t invited to and he’s going to wait until Bethany realises her terrible mistake and lets him in.

We wander into the kitchen grab a snack. There’s no point making any real food yet. We have to drive Bethany to her friends Hen’s Party in 45 minutes.

My phone buzzes as soon as I set it on the counter.

It’s Aveline.

**_‘Was thinking of getting Bela that ship in a bottle we saw last week. If we all pitch in we can get her that and a bottle of rum for her bday.’_ **

I swear Isabela was a ship’s captain in a past life. Her home is a shrine to all things nautical. She took me sailing once. I got sea sick and threw up on her. I was not invited to go sailing with her again.

‘Aveline, Donnic, Sebastian and I are gonna put some money in for Isabela’s birthday present,’ I tell Garrett, ‘Wanna pitch in? Or had you already organised an oversized chocolate cock for her or something?’

I chuckle to myself as I picture Garrett walking into Isabela’s birthday party, proudly holding a giant chocolate penis twice his height. I’m mentally a child. Grow up, Leto.

‘Chocolate cock? What a fucking amazing idea! Her birthday’s next weekend, so I probably don’t have time for that,’ he says sadly, ‘Count me in. What about Merrill and Anders?’

‘Merrill’s made her something crystally. And, well, Anders can’t even afford a bus fare. That’s why Aveline is always picking him up from the cat shelter.’

‘How come Anders never has any money, anyway?’

‘He’s a volunteer. I thought you knew,’ I tell him as I kick my shoes off with slightly more force than intended, ‘He really struggles sometimes. As much as I don’t like him, it’s not his fault.’

‘He could get a real job,’ Garrett says, ‘Then he’d have money. I mean, he’s already working, isn’t he? He could do the same thing and get paid for it.’

He seems genuinely baffled by the idea of Anders willingly giving up his time to work for no money.

‘Why doesn’t he get an actual paying job?’ he asks, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of iced coffee from the fridge, ‘He went to Uni. He told me. He’s a qualified vet, isn’t he?’

Garrett grabs a glass of the shelf, places it on the counter, then proceeds to drink straight from the bottle. He returns the iced coffee to the fridge while the glass sits forgotten on the counter.

‘He did work at a surgery,’ I tell him, ‘But he lost his job.’

‘What for?’

‘He punched a client. And to be honest, I have to admit I’m with him on that one. I would have done the same thing in his position.’

‘Why? What happened?’

‘She brought a dog in,’ I tell him. I’ve told this story many times. It always makes me angry, ‘The poor thing was only four months old. She got him because she wanted a purebred, but then she saw all these people at the dog park with Labradoodles. She wanted a Labradoodle. She actually brings this poor dog into his surgery and tells him to put the poor thing to sleep.’

‘Okay, I’d have punched her too.’

‘ _I don’t want it anymore’_. Those were her exact words. So he hit her.’

‘Shit.’

‘Lost his job, got charged with assault. Gave the dog to Aveline. He’d have kept him himself, but he has six cats, so that was a no go.’

‘MacDuff? How the hell could someone do that to such a cute puppy?’

‘Twinkle-Belle,’ I tell him with a snort, ‘That’s what he was called originally. Aveline was having nothing to do with a name like that.’

‘Lucky dog.’

‘Very lucky dog.’

Garrett wraps his arms around me and chuckles.

‘Leto, it sounds like you might actually be defending your mortal enemy!’

‘Don’t tell anyone.’ I whisper dramatically.

 

____________________

 

 

‘Call me at any time, okay?’

Garrett sounds nervous as he turns in his seat to shoot his sister a concerned look. She’s leaning over me, using the ute’s rear vision mirror to touch up her lipstick. Makeup is a serious business it seems. I get elbowed in the face.

‘Oh shit,’ she gasps, hastily patting my forehead where her elbow connected with my skull, ‘I’m sorry!’

‘Don’t worry!’ I chuckle, ‘It didn’t even hurt.’

It did.

Makeup sorted, she sits back in her seat to organise her purse. She has seven different tubes of lipstick with her. Three of them appear to be the exact same shade. Extra tubes in case of an emergency? That’s probably it.

‘I’ll be fine, Garrett!’ she sighs, ‘I’m nearly twenty one!’

He turns in his seat to give her a serious, big brother glare.

‘This is Kirkwall, not Lothering,’ he tells her firmly, ‘I don’t want some drunken asshole taking advantage of you.’

His protective glare doesn’t seem to have the desired effect.

‘Ha! I’d like to see them try,’ she laughs, leaning forward and ruffling her brother’s hair, ‘Don’t worry about me! Seriously!’

‘Well, I’m going to be awake all night worrying about you until you call me to pick you up.’

‘You don’t need to pick me up,’ she sighs, checking the time on her phone before throwing it into her purse, ‘I can get a taxi.’

‘Beth! I’m picking you up!’

‘Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll call you when I want to be picked up. Don’t grump to me about being dragged out of bed at 4am.’

‘As long as you’re safe, little sister, I don’t care what time you ring.’

She leans over me and kisses him on the cheek.

I can see a group of girls waving excitedly at the car from the footpath. One of them is wearing a fluffy crown and a sash with the words ‘Bride to Be’ printed across it in migraine inducing neon pink. Bethany trots towards them excitedly, arms stuck out to her sides as she attempts to balance in her ridiculously high heeled shoes.

‘Her dress is too short,’ grumbles Garrett, ‘I wish she’d worn something else.’

‘Your sister is very sweet,’ I tell him, ‘But I have no doubt that she is capable of defending herself should she receive any unwelcome attention.’

He drops his head to the steering wheel and sighs.

‘Yeah,’ he says without looking up, ‘Yeah. She’ll be okay.’

‘Now can we go home?’ I ask, ‘I’m up to the last chapter of _Tales from the Borderlands_ and I want to finish it.’

‘Haven’t you already played that game? Actually, I seem to recall you playing that game a few times.’

‘Yeah, but I haven’t played all the different options. This is the first time I’ve sided with Fiona.’

‘Okay, _Tales_ it is. Though, that’s only gonna take you an hour to finish…’

‘I wanna finish my game, then I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name.’

‘Oh! Well, in that case, I suppose we’d better head home. I’m so gonna get pulled over for speeding.’

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to warn anyone reading that this chapter mentions homophobia and gay bashing, so if that upsets you, it would be best not to read!

It’s Isabela’s birthday.

I’ve never seen so many drunk people in my life. And I’m quite ashamed to count myself among their number.

I don’t drink very often because it effects my blood glucose levels, but Isabela insisted I get drunk tonight, so I had to plan out my meals extra carefully today. It IS her birthday.

And now, I’m pleasantly pissed.

The Hanged Man is certainly not my favourite place in the world, but my level of inebriation means that I’ll tolerate it for a night.

I think I’m having a good time. I’m pretty sure this is what a good time feels like.

There are a lot of people here. I must be enjoying myself, because I haven’t wanted to punch anyone yet. I don’t like crowds.

Garrett is being incredibly loud. He’s talking to everyone. He’s making the most awful jokes I’ve ever heard.

Damn it. I like him so much.

‘Garrett? Garrett Hawke! Oh my god it IS you!’

Garrett freezes, and I can tell that he knows that voice very well. He looks both incredibly happy and incredibly shocked at the same time.

‘Saemus Dumar!’ he yelps, turning around to look at the owner of the voice, ‘I can’t believe it! I thought I’d never see you again!’

There’s a look on Garrett’s face when he looks at the other man.

I can’t figure this look out, but I know I don’t like it.

My hackles go up. This guy is good looking, and there’s clearly some history between the two.

I feel my jealousy rising.

When Garrett pulls the man into a tight hug, I’m about ready to break something.

What I said about having a good time three seconds ago? Yeah. I’m not having a good time now.

‘Are you going to introduce us?’ I practically hiss.

‘Oh! Shit, sorry!’ Garrett says, ‘This is Saemus! I haven’t seen him in what, ten years?’

Saemus smiles at me, and holds out his hand. I reluctantly take it, glaring at him with the most intense death stare I can conjure.

‘Saemus, this is my, ah, boyfriend, Leto.’

‘ _Ah, boyfriend’_? So I’m not an actual boyfriend. I’m an ‘ _Ah, boyfriend’_. I don’t like Saemus. I don’t like him at all.

The two are talking like they’ve never been separated, and I feel sick. When Garrett reaches out and touches the other man’s cheek, I lose it.

‘Shall I leave you two alone?’ I growl.

‘No, it’s okay,’ Saemus says, sensing my hostility, ‘I have to get going, I’m meeting people. But I’ll give you my number, Garrett. We need to catch up properly!’

I watch them exchange numbers eagerly, and I clench my jaw. Saemus leaves, but not before giving Garrett another huge hug.

‘I really never expected to see him again!’ Garrett says with a huge, dopey grin on his stupid face, ‘Man, that was awesome!’

‘Why didn’t you just offer to bend him over a table right in front of me?’ I growl, ‘I wouldn’t have minded.’

‘Are you jealous, Leto?’ Garrett smirks, ‘You can calm down, you know. He’s just a friend.’

‘You seemed awfully pleased to see him,’ I try to tell myself that I’m being childish, but I doesn’t help with the lump in my throat, ‘Far too pleased.’

‘I am pleased. He’s, well… indirectly the reason I left Lothering.’

No. I did NOT want to hear that. I’m going to be sick.

‘Saemus is?’ I say anxiously. I really am going to vomit.

‘Yeah. We were good friends,’ Garrett tells me, ‘He’s a few years younger than me, but were both discovering that we were attracted to guys around the same time, and we supported each other. Being gay in a small town is no fun.’

I know Garrett’s been with plenty of guys. But I don’t want to hear this.

‘This new family moved to town,’ he continues, ‘Religious family. Saemus got involved with their son, Ashaad. They loved each other, Leto. It started to give me hope. They were so fucking happy. But then, it all went to shit.’

‘What went to shit?’

This conversation isn’t really going in the direction I had expected.

‘When his father found out, he sent a group of guys after Ashaad.’

‘And what happened?’

I have a feeling that I don’t really want to hear his response.

‘Official police investigation found that they acted in ‘Self Defence’. Fucking bullshit they did. Those guys _literally_ got away with murder.’

Well, I was waiting for the ‘ _He was my first love’_ confession. I was not expecting this.

‘I don’t think his father intended for the violence to go so far, but Saemus took his dad’s car and left a few days after the attack. No one knew where he went, and his dad died a few years later without ever seeing him again. After that, I just kept my head down. Finished school. I was terrified of being found out. Went to Uni, then returned to the farm after dad died. I was still scared, so I left. Came to Kirkwall.’

‘Your family don’t know? But your sister…’

‘Beth knows,’ he says, ‘I told her when I was nineteen. But she’s the only one back home that I’ve told. I want to tell them, I really want to. I just can’t. I’m a fucking coward.’

I can see Garrett’s about to break down. I take his face in my hands.

‘Don’t you ever call yourself a coward.’

‘You have no idea what it’s like to grow up gay in a town of a hundred and eighty seven people. It’s fucking shit,’ his voice cracks, ‘Nobody could know, Leto. Nobody could know, or I’d be dead.’

‘Come on,’ I tell him softly, leading him towards the quietest corner I can find, ‘It’s okay.’

I try to think of something comforting to say. I really, really try. But I’m drunk. And shocked.

My family don’t care what I do.

I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have to keep this a secret. He’s genuinely afraid that his family will reject him. Over something that really makes no difference to who he is.

‘So,’ I say finally, ‘This is the reason you don’t want me to meet your family.’

‘Yeah.’

I think back to my childish tantrum the other day, and feel like an arsehole.

‘I… I understand,’ I brush his hair out of his eyes. I think he’s getting a bit teary, ‘It’s okay.’

‘No,’ he snaps angrily, ‘it’s not fucking okay. It’s not okay. You’re… I mean I… You’re fucking important to me, Leto.’

He really is drunk as hell.

‘The whole family’s going to be there,’ he sighs, ‘I wish there was a way to… ah, fuck it. I don’t know.’

I am not going to allow him to put himself in a situation where he feels so uncomfortable. I mean, it’s not like he’s ever going to get to meet my family.

I don’t even really know where my family are, if I’m honest.

‘Perhaps it’s best if…’

‘No. I’m done with this,’ he cuts me off, ‘It’s time to stop being a coward. I want you there.’

He pulls me into a tight hug, which I suspect has the dual purpose of keeping himself upright.

‘I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, Garrett,’ I squirm in his too tight grasp, ‘And we’re both a little too drunk to be having this conversation.’

‘I’m not drunk enough,’ he spits, ‘Not yet.’

‘You plan to keep on drinking?’ I sigh, fairly certain that he’s already drunk enough for the both of us.

‘Yep, I’m going to get properly wankered,’ he seems determined, and I don’t think he’s in the mood to be argued with, ‘I want to keep drinking until I forget all this shit.’

‘Please don’t make a habit of it.’

‘I’m okay. But I think I need to have a tactical vom,’ he grasps my shoulders, ‘Then I’ll be fine.’

The rest of the night turns into a blur. I’m vaguely aware that Isabela is topless and trying to get some guy to drink from the glass she’s placed between her breasts, and that I have a bruise on the right side of my chest which hurts like hell. I think I fell off a table, but I’m not totally sure.

It takes three people to carry Garrett outside and onto the footpath at the end of the night.

I imagine we’re going to feel like shit in the morning.

 

\----------------

 

Perhaps if I removed every single one of my teeth, the unbearable pressure in my skull could escape and I wouldn’t feel like the room was falling backwards.

Just how much did I have to drink last night?

A pathetic whimper from the lump lying next to me is a reminder that I’m probably not the worst off this morning.

If I feel awful right now, I hate to think how Garrett is feeling.

He still reeks of alcohol, and I slowly begin to remember the events that led up to him drinking to the point that we were refused a ride from four separate taxi drivers.

We ended up going home with Aveline and Donnic.

Thank god for designated drivers.

I really hope Garrett doesn’t vomit on their spare bed. Or that he hasn’t already.

‘Garrett?’ I mumble hoarsely, unable to lift my head from the pillow, ‘You okay?’

‘No talking…’ he moans, ‘Talk makes head hurt. Go back to sleep. For at least a year.’

He’s snoring again within seconds. I’d love to go back to sleep myself, but my stomach is churning and I can’t lie still any longer. I ease myself into a sitting position and wait for my head to stop spinning.

I can hear voices from the direction of the kitchen and I stumble down the hallway to be laughed at by my two friends who had the good sense not to write themselves off last night.

I make a mental note to punch the fucking sun in the balls at the first opportunity. Mocking me with its damn brightness. I don’t need this shit.

‘Oh, Leto,’ Aveline shakes her head as I walk into the kitchen, ‘What have you done to yourself?’

She’s making bacon and eggs with Donnic. It smells delicious. And somehow revolting at the same time. My stomach lurches and I clap a hand over my mouth.

It takes me a few deep breaths before I feel safe to speak without vomiting.

‘I need to eat,’ I groan, ‘I need to eat but I feel too sick.’

‘Sit down, buddy,’ Donnic tells me, ‘What do you want?’

‘My head says everything,’ I sigh, ‘My stomach says nothing.’

I drop my head into my folded arms, wincing as Donnic makes as much noise as he possibly can piling food onto a plate for me. He’s making noise on purpose. Bastard.

‘Coffee?’ he asks me.

‘Less talking,’ I groan, covering my head with my hands, ‘My head…’

I really am going to die. I’m not joking. I wouldn’t joke at a time like this.

A plate of food is placed infront of my face. It smells vile.

I stare at the plate for a few minutes before working up the courage to take my first bite, but when I do, my stomach settles almost immediately.

It doesn’t really help my pounding head, but I’ll take whatever relief I can at the moment.

I eat with far less enthusiasm than usual, but it’s not long until I’m beginning to feel pleasantly full and my headache is starting to subside.

‘Thanks, Donnic,’ I sigh, pushing my still half full plate away from me, ‘That was just what I needed. Sorry I can’t finish it.’

‘Feel better?’ my friend asks, grabbing a strip of bacon off of the plate and popping it into his mouth, ‘You have a bit more colour in your face now. You still look rough as hell, though.’

‘Wait until you see Garrett,’ I chuckle, ‘I don’t actually know how the man didn’t end up with alcohol poisoning.’

‘He weighs about as much as a family car,’ Aveline says, joining us at the counter, ‘I don’t think there’s enough alcohol in the world for that.’

I smirk and stretch my arms behind my head.

Aveline wants to take MacDuff to the park and I decide to go with her. I need some fresh air and I’m sure that Garrett won’t be awake for hours yet.

‘We didn’t… We didn’t make drunken fools of ourselves last night, did we Aveline?’

‘Ha!’ she laughs, ‘You two have nothing on Isabela! I wouldn’t worry.’

She grabs MacDuff’s lead and he tears past me towards the door, yapping excitedly.

‘Come on, you,’ she says, patting me on the back, ‘You’ll feel better after you get some air.’

 

\----------------

 

It’s well past midday when Garrett finally emerges from his hangover nest.

He looks fucking awful.

He stumbles into the living room where Aveline, MacDuff and I are having a lazy _Yonderland_ marathon.

‘Morning Hawke!’ laughs Aveline, ‘And how are you feeling this morning?’

He responds with a grunt and collapses onto the sofa next to me, and my god, does he need a shower.

‘I spewed in the bed,’ he moans, ‘I’m sorry.’

Aveline is up in a flash, running towards the spare room.

‘Oh, Hawke!’ I hear her wail.

I feel kind of bad. Maybe I should go and help clean it up.

‘ _Thanks for letting our drunk asses stay in your spare room last night. Also, here, have copious amounts of vomit. You’re welcome.’_

I suppose there’s nothing I can actually do right now, because I have a large, hairy man semiconscious in my lap and I don’t think I have a hope in hell of moving him.

‘Can I get you anything?’ I ask, reaching out to rub his back, like I actually have a choice to get up right now.

‘Can I have a kiss?’ he mumbles, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my stomach.

‘You can have anything you want except a kiss,’ I smirk, ‘You stink.’

He’s quiet for a while, no doubt trying to deal with his nausea. I can hear him trying to steady his breathing.

‘I just want to lie here for a bit,’ he mumbles into my belly.

I continue to rub his back, while trying to fend off MacDuff, who is trying to lick Garrett’s face. I eventually manage to convince the mutt that I have an invisible ball, which he goes scrambling up the hallway to retrieve when I pretend to throw it. I’m a bastard.

‘Sorry I got the shits up with your friend last night,’ I say finally.

‘Saemus?’ he asks, rubbing the side of his face, ‘Nah, man. You’re fine.’

‘I wanted to punch him,’ I tell him, ‘No joke.’

Before Garrett had explained who he was, I think I was ready to put my fist though his chest and pull out his still beating heart. Now I feel childish and ashamed about how I reacted to the whole situation.

‘I never pictured you to be the jealous type,’ he yawns, rolling onto his back and looking up at me, ‘Well, actually, I guess it makes sense.’

I am totally the jealous type.

‘You know my temper,’ I sigh, ‘I’m not always in the best control of my emotions.’

‘You’re lucky you’re so cute,’ he grins, pulling me down so that he can kiss my forehead, ‘I’ll forgive you.’

He smells gross.

‘Thank you,’ I smile, ‘Now do me a favour and go and take a damn shower.’

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a total loser for Hawke taking care of a sick, grumpy Fenris. So here is the sick, grumpy Fenris chapter.

I used to love the rain.

Snuggled in bed, the steady beating of heavy rain on a tin roof used to be one of my favourite sounds.

For most of my life, there really was nothing better. Safe in my warm nest, I’d have no reason to get out of bed.

I might get up mid-afternoon to make myself a cup of tea or coffee, chose something to read from one of the many piles of books scattered about my house, and dive back under my quilt with a contented sigh.

These days, the sound of rain fills me with dread.

Woken by a clap of thunder sometime in the early morning, I pull the covers over my head and wait anxiously for the first raindrops to fall.

My house is falling apart. I stay because the rent is next to nothing. I dare not call my landlord and complain, because he never did anything about the broken tap in the bathroom. Or the dead possum in the chimney. Or the crack in the kitchen wall which I can fit my entire fist in. And the rats in the ceiling who mock me with their ability to get into even the most fortified of cupboards.

I’m scared if I nag, he’ll kick me out. I’m scared if I try to fix anything myself, I’ll stuff it up and get kicked out. And I can’t afford to have anyone in to do repairs.

The things I do for cheap rent.

For the last eighteen months, my bedroom ceiling has leaked in four different places. And so, every time it rains, my house gets damp and mouldy. And smelly.

I actually keep expecting the house to be condemned. It will, eventually. And then I’ll be fucked.

It’s gross. And I should move. But I can’t afford to rent on my own anywhere else. And I don’t do well in a share house situation.

I had a housemate for a time, before I moved to this house. We were very good friends to begin with.

And now, we are no longer on speaking terms. I’m not an easy person to live with.

I burrow under my covers and wait.

Within fifteen minutes I can hear loud drops hitting the floor near my bed. And I’m past the point of putting down bowls or buckets to catch the offending drops. They just end up overflowing anyway.

It’s been raining on and off for two weeks now, and I think the mould that has started to grow in the corners of the bedroom is becoming self-aware.

There’s been a nagging pain in my chest for several days, and I’m sure it’s due to the damp. And now, I have a headache. Which I tell myself is due to bad posture when I’m baking at work.

I’m not getting sick. I’m totally healthy.

Eventually, I have to drag myself out of bed and take some painkillers. I’m sure that when I have to wake up, I’ll feel fine.

 

\--------------

 

I don’t. Not one bit.

When my alarm goes off, my head is throbbing.

By the time I get to work, my chest feels like it’s on fire, and every joint in my body aches.

In a shocking display of disregard for our customer’s health and safety, I decide to keep quiet and try to get through my shift without letting on just how bad I feel.

I’m not in the mood for enthusiasm. Not today.

But sure enough, the minute I’m through the door I’m met with not one, but two grinning, energetic faces.

‘Leto!’ Alistair greets me as I walk in the door, ‘This is Dagna!’

He gestures towards the young lady to his right.

She’s actually beaming. I can feel the eagerness radiating from her like some sort of excitement heat lamp.

She is the shortest person I think I have ever seen in my entire life.

‘Remember how I said that Elissa had found someone who is a total natural when it comes to baking?’

I don’t.

‘Well, here she is! I’ll be training her up today on the registers. Once she’s comfortable with the registers and everything, you can show her the ropes out the back.’

I hold out my hand to her. It’s shaking slightly. I’m pretty sure she does not want to shake my gross, sweaty hand.

She takes it enthusiastically with both hands, clearly not caring that it’s clammy as hell.

‘Thank you SO much in advance for teaching me about the kitchen! I LOVE baking so much!’

I can’t help but smile, even though I feel like a cat’s litter tray that hasn’t been emptied for about fifteen days. The cat’s so disgusted by it that he’s going to the toilet behind the washing machine at this point.

‘Did you sleep last night?’ Alistair asks me with a raised eyebrow, ‘You look half dead. And, you know, I kinda like my employees to be at least half functioning when they come to work.’

I nod feebly. I feel like crap and I just want to keep my head down.

‘I did sleep,’ I tell him, thankful that my voice doesn’t sound too hoarse, ‘Just not very well. The thunder woke me up.’

Dagna’s eyes widen and she grins.

‘Oh, wasn’t the thunder amazing?’ she gushes, ‘I love storms! I watched the lightning from my bedroom window! I’ve only had a few hours sleep myself, but I’m so excited to be here that I’m not too tired.’

This girl is very sweet. And hilariously short. And I have a feeling that by the end of the day, her enthusiasm will have me wanting to punch her in the face. Or punch myself in the face. Or both.

I love her already.

‘Leto makes all our wedding cakes. And, to be honest, he makes most of the other cakes as well,’ Alistair tells Dagna, who looks far too excited, ‘He’s won awards for his cakes, you know.’

Her eyes widen.

‘Wow! Really? I’ve seen your wedding cakes, and they are amazing!’ she says, ‘Do you think you could teach me to bake like you?’

‘I…’

‘Because it’s one thing having the qualification,’ she continues, ‘But nothing beats ACTUAL experience! It’s my DREAM to make wedding cakes.’

‘Um,’ I say in an illness induced daze, ‘Sure?’

‘Thank you _so_ much!’ she gasps, and I wonder what I just got myself into.

‘Literally no one in my family can bake,’ she tells me, as I sit on the nearest stool and try to keep my head up, ‘My mum can barely make toast. She always sets of the smoke alarm. Practically all my family are carpenters. I just want to make cakes.’

I’m going to know this girl’s entire life story by the end of the day. Her nonstop talking will help me stay awake, I hope.

Alistair makes several attempts to cut into her chatter before finally catching her attention and introducing her to the espresso machine.

I force myself to stand and take a few moments for the room to stop spinning, before heading out the back and making an attempt to start work.

 

_____________

 

I’ve been struggling to stay upright while ruining several hundred dollars with of ingredients with stupid mistakes for two hours and forty eight minutes.

I have to go home. I should not be working with food. This is ridiculous. I can’t even see straight.

Throwing down the burnt tray of cakes I’ve just pulled out of the oven onto the table, I walk out to the front counter.

‘Alistair?’ I moan.

‘Just a sec,’ he says, helping Dagna complete a transaction, then giving her an enthusiastic high five, ‘what’s up?’

‘I think I maybe need to go home,’ I whimper, clutching the counter and couching down before I fall backwards.

‘Leto,’ he looks up and his face falls. I must really look like shit, ‘Are you okay?’

I shake my head.

‘I think I have a cold,’ I mumble, ‘I feel like crap.’

‘Do you ever! Can Garrett come and get you?’

I actually have to think for several moments about what day it is. I don’t know if he’ll be at work.

‘Yeah,’ I whimper, realising that it’s Sunday, ‘Unless he’s taken Mouse for a walk. But he’ll have his phone with him.’

‘Want me to call him for you?’ Alistair asks.

‘Nah,’ I mumble, ‘I’m not an invalid.’

I pull my phone out of my pocket, but I can’t really get my fingers to work. When the phone ends up on the floor for the second time, Alistair takes it from my hand.

‘Sit,’ he tells me, leading me into the back room, ‘I’ll call him. You’re okay.’

Every part of my body hurts. I feel stupid. I drop my head into my arms and it takes all my strength not to burst into tears.

 


End file.
